Michael J. McDonald
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Published by Michael J. McDonald at Smashwords
Cover Photograph by Dora Pete (porah @ stock.xchng)
Copyright 2012 by Michael J. McDonald
Sunday September 3rd
A week is a long time in politics. Sure it is. Look what happened to Jesus in a week.
Seems like a lifetime between now and my destination, though. Next Monday night, the polls will be in, and all this rising in the middle of the night like a damn vampire will be over. They'll hopefully stop slathering my face in that gritty pale makeup too, once I actually get the job and don't have to look pretty for the cameras. Sometimes I wish it was tomorrow, that I could wake up after switching my brain off for all those cringe-worthy interviews with sharp women in scratchy polyester suits just trying to sting me with the right question. I doubt they'd notice the difference, the staff rehearsed me so well I could answer in my sleep. Couldn't dress in my sleep, of course, still got to get that style down. They won't let me wear black every day. This is all so tiring, calculating every motion, constructing every smile, just to make sure no bloody journalist can come along and tell everyone that psychologists say people who have the same number of creases in their face that I do are 42 per cent more likely to crash a train. I know what's coming, but I go on anyway. If we don't win this election, the country will slide further into the toilet.