It was the first time an incumbent president had thrown a shoe at his own home. The White House was shocked, “Hey Mr President, you’re hurting me!” said the old walls.
“Fraud!” shouted the blonde haired old man, as he threw another shoe. “They told me I’d be the most powerful man on earth once I shifted here! I left my fancy bathrooms, my jeweled jacuzzies, gold plated washbasins and diamond studded toilets, to live in this drab wretched hovel, and what do I find?”
“What’s bothering you Mr President?” asked the White House, happy he had no more shoes to throw.
“That I’m a powerless man!” screamed the seventy- year old, “That a no good judge in Seattle, who doesn’t know brick from mortar, skyscraper from cottage, has maybe never seen ten thousand dollars in his whole life, has never seen the insides of first class, leave alone business class, has the audacity to pull down what I thought was my greatest achievement in my first week as president? I left my silver, gold and all my trappings of wealth to shift into you, most miserable of homes, and find I can’t even pass an order?”
The white colored home, residence to some of the greatest men in history looked at the angry man standing on its lawn and felt no pity, “You can go back Mr President! Back to your fancy towers!”
“I can’t!” whispered the old man with his strange blonde hair. “I don’t want to go to New York and watch people from them seven countries laughing at me, while I drive down Wall Street! I felt so damn happy seeing placards and protestors at the airports, shouting stuff against me! I so loved the feeling of hate!”
“Aha!” said the White House,
“There lies the problem!”
“What problem?” asked the president.
“That this home was built for love Mr President!”
“Ye gads you want me to love them people?”
“That’s the power this house
represents Mr President!”
“But this is where Lincoln started the civil war?”
“To get people to love men and
women, called slaves!”
“This is where Bush senior fought
a war to liberate Kuwait!”
“He did Mr President, and we packed him off after just one term, and his son fared no better, with nobody wanting to think too much about him nowadays! You want power Mr President?’
“Yes!” whispered Trump.
“First go back home. Back to your castle, your penthouse! Take your baggage of hate with you! We’ll help you load it in your limo. Store those boxes in your towers. Then return!”
“Return with what?”
“Nothing,” said the White House simply as it watched the president pick up his shoes, “Nothing. We’ll fill you with what this house is full off!”
“I don’t know what you are talking about!” shouted the President as he threw a shoe in the direction of Seattle, and the White House sighed as it waited patiently for the other shoe..!
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Editor : M. Shamsur Rahman
Published by the Editor on behalf of Independent Publications Limited at Media Printers, 446/H, Tejgaon I/A, Dhaka-1215.
Editorial, News & Commercial Offices : Beximco Media Complex, 149-150 Tejgaon I/A, Dhaka-1208, Bangladesh. GPO Box No. 934, Dhaka-1000.
Editor : M. Shamsur Rahman
Published by the Editor on behalf of Independent Publications Limited at Media Printers, 446/H, Tejgaon I/A, Dhaka-1215.
Editorial, News & Commercial Offices : Beximco Media Complex, 149-150 Tejgaon I/A, Dhaka-1208, Bangladesh. GPO Box No. 934, Dhaka-1000.