text: Past 2am. He was awake, again. While his corpulence always exhibited the inadequacy of his duvet, tonight his sweat had also soaked it. He reached out for the glass of water by his bedside. The glass had a thick curved bottom, ornate on the top. It rested on a table with a surface of pure silver. He loved shiny things. A voice of some late TV presenter was ranting. Pictures of a massive processions interlaced with that shriek of a voice. He knew exactly who the presenter was, he knew all of them. His life centred on TV as much as TV centred on him. He pressed the power off button. "How dare they...", he said in a tired, almost morose manner. He had given his listeners a new lease of life and they used it to destroy him. All his life he sought to serve the people around him. Favours, deals, everyone being happy. Everyone that mattered of course. You can't make EVERYONE happy, that would have killed him. \- "How is your wife?", the blank TV says. His own face starring back at him, with an eerie translucence that flat screens are experts on. His own eyes piercing right back at him. Oh... \_He\_ was also awake. "Still angry with you?" the translucent figure says. \- Beads of sweat formed around his forehead. His voice crackled, "No... Please leave me alone tonight... please! I have barely slept this week". \- "I sensed you needed me. I sensed you being weak again. Let me comfort you. Forget that ungrateful bitch." \- "Yes... she is so angry... Until this gig is over I can't even divorce her..." \- "She is not the only angry with you, you know", the figure on the TV now smiles a golden smile. "The whole world is. Actually... the whole world despises you" \- "No. They love me! I woke them up! They hugged their little pillows until I showed them that they ruled by darkness. I brought the light!", he retorts. \- "You brought fear. You brought loathing. You brought power! It's not light that you gave them. You didn't wake them up to lead. You woke them up to destroy them. For me to destroy them", the figure smirked. \- "Yes... and now... who is left in my corner? Constant bickering. I'm so lonely". His fingers played with each other. Weaving an imaginary web and promptly dismissing it. \- "What about your friend, Vladimir was it?", the figure on the TV now smiles a golden smile. The figure on the TV is patiently waiting for his reply but he stared down. His lips tremble. "I have not heard from since...". He missed Vlad. When Vlad was around - physically or even in his thoughts - he felt the world was no longer a land of wonder and opportunity but of certainty. Yes. He was the dealmaker and thrived on opportunity but in this new gig... they wanted him to certain. About everything. The whole fucking time. \- "He was never your friend, you know." \- "What?!" The figure on the TV leaned in to whisper, as conspirators often do. \- "He is like a russian doll, layers upon layers. He showed you what you wanted to see. What you wanted to hear. He manipulated you in this misery so HE can look strong.". \- "No. NO!", his face became red. \- "Oh yes my friend. HE isolated you. He is loved. You saw the the news. That was a procession in his honour.". \- "That... Is... Ugh. Yes. I saw". His sweat had evaporated. His eyebrows closed in as he processed all that information. He had been so caught up in his emotions to see the obvious. Not only he had been played but he was being played now as well. Images and sounds. Images and sounds... he had listened for too long. \- "Yes you saw and listened. Now listen to me, I can guide you through this if you just... oh shit...", the figure in the screen opened its eyes wide as the image got distorted and then were no more. There were shards everywhere now, the remote control embedded into what remained of the flat screen TV. \- "ENOUGH! I had enough!", he shouted with vigour. He had to do more than just deal with this the figure in the screen. He had to resolve this permanently once and for all. All images and sounds would have to be silenced. TV boxes, radios, the Internet. All the LIES would have to surrendered. There was only one way to ensure that. Only one thing could disrupt all of the lies. He saw it in a movie. An electromagnetic pulse from a nuclear explosion. A lot of nuclear explosions. But he couldn't do that. No... Someone else will have to be "inspired". He acted on that thought and put his phone away. Peace was upon him. The kind he had rarely felt before. Filled him in every hair of his being. That and confidence. Soon. He would be loved unconditionally by everyone on the side of good. Past 5am. Reconciled, Donald fell asleep, wrapped around with his own arms. The rest of the world was stealing a few extra moments of slumber before being confronted with the New World he had just tweeted into creation.