Bright, white light shone behind the golden haired, blue eyed, middle aged man who stood before five hundred plus people. They had waited in line for hours to hear him speak.
Most of his words were about himself, his accomplishments. He spoke as if he had sacrificed to arrive at his position in life. He spoke as if he had done it all by himself, as if he had been born with nothing. As if his ingenuity, cunning, and work ethic had taken him from that nothing to a state of material wealth he flaunted with every breath.
But he occasionally spoke of the people in front of him: told them they had been forgotten by others, but never by him.
They looked on at him in awe. They imagined they could do what he had done – not at his level, but within the confines of what they perceived would be success. They believed this man spoke to them because he cared for them. He had climbed the mountain and now, out of a true love for the people of his country, would open the doors of opportunity to them all.
He spoke loudly. Angry at times, kidding at others. He spoke of disasters only he could quell, crimes only he could prevent. Of people who considered him the enemy of all that is good and right in this world, and of why those people, in turn, were the true enemies to be feared and targeted by everyone supportive of his cause.
When he finished for the night, he thought of how handsome and strong he surely looked to the crowd.
They returned to their homes and ate late dinners, content to have been included.
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