Reflections of a Watchman
Walking through the war-torn rubble that used to be a city, the man paused and stared at the doll wondering whose blood now covered the toy. Where was its former owner now? So much had happened so quickly. The years since 2020 were a blur of activity… an assault against a society that could no longer tolerate change fatigue yet couldn’t stop to absorb the facts and see where it was all leading. In many ways, it was not a surprise. Just like the first Civil War in the mid-1800s, civil dialog had stopped in both government and society. Both sides had become so focused on what they believed that discourse disintegrated into disagreement, further dissolving into demonization of anyone with an opposing viewpoint. Mistrust grew as did the name-calling. Soon, brother was coming to blows against brother and militias clashed, soaking American soil with blood. Blood had soaked this cloth toy as well. The doll was now in his hand, replacing the rifle that he had gently laid down. Although covered...