The crystal thought vanquishes before our very eyes.  Making Lewis Carroll proud has never been easier nor I so much a fool.  Such utter nonsense disgracing the pages.  It’s folly, pure and simple. . .as though anything could ever be easy again.  That is a positively laughable suggestion proffered.  Renege on the deal, now!  It’s surely the best thing to do. . .


That’s the way I begin my tale.  Vegas is betting heavy that that’s the way it will end.  There appears to be little faith in my skill or ability.  Self doubt, however, shall not hinder this project.  It occurs to me that I should recount my lowly lot as a government clerk.  Years of exposure to Dostoevsky have irradiated my heart with a subtle tone of melancholy.  I can not help my sad face as I slide through each day.


Routinely am I confronted with inquiries on my continual long face that is rarely reformed by a joke—and even then too brief to elicit much notice.  But I am not piqued of ire nor depressed of situation.  Merely, it is just a natural decision to hide the dimples.  Keep them all at bay with apathy.  All I want to do is collect a check and go home. 


Such simplicity is unlikely, anyway.  I can not for a moment defy my inner desires.  So I will not elevate my self opinion on the basis of such an unwarranted position.  No dignity at all, as I remain subversive at heart.  Being a fed can’t change me.  Maybe I’ll join the Masons like Aleister Crowley and throw my support behind Rasputin.  Going to fell the Romanov empire once and for all.  The dynasty will fall but hardly for anything better.


I feel confused all the time.  Reading Aristotle before taking a government gig is patently unnecessary.  And Marcus Aurellius need not apply.  The paranoid delusion of Old Fyodor is sufficient.  X marks the spot but I’ll miss it just the same.  The red tape has been secured over my mouth.  My silence has been purchased without due process. . .


View georgeschaefer's Full Portfolio