http://www.worstmayorsever.com/Elected Command: A a most righteous journey of justice and enterprise.
Light.
It gently pours into the tomb from the ascending staircase.
The man has been laying upon his back.
Cracking his knuckles, he swings his legs around, allowing his feet to touch the cold ground. The wind whistles through the darkened room. Squinting, the man adjusts his eyes. The light is that from the moon, dimly illuminating his barren surroundings. With a short cough, the man stands, and then moves toward the staircase.
The steps to the exit are numerous. The man only thinks of reaching the exit, not contemplating what resides beyond. His mind is clear. Summoning the energy, he scales the steps. The exit inches closer and closer, until giving way to the starry night. Gazing into the sky, his back to his past, the man stands at the tomb’s exit for a moment. With another short cough, he steps forward, feet landing onto the cool grass.
Peering behind him, the man notices that the tomb’s entrance is that of a tree. Redwood. As old as written memory. The entrance is hollowed out, with its heavy doors now wide open. The redwood stands alone upon a hill, surrounded by grassy fields. The man, himself, is a giant. His frame is impeccable. Muscles toned, shoulders wide. Only a pair of common worker pants held up by a shoulder strap adorns him. Dark brown hair, and a thick, curly mustache.
Surveying the horizon, the geography becomes familiar to him.
To his back, the redwood tomb.
To the far horizon on his left, a collection of buildings, chimney ducts spewing thick clouds of smoke from each one.
To the far horizon on his right, a steep coastline, hugging a body of water that spans into oblivion.
To the far horizon in front of him, a series of towering mountains, their caps sprinkled with icy snow.
He itches his hand. Something feels off. He peers down into the palm, and a large scar greets him. Unmistakably, the wounded skin tissue is etched into the form of a dollar sign.
The memories flood back.
Clenching his palm into a fist, the man sneers.
“Time… For an election.”
Commands: 1. Return to the tomb, investigate.
2. Head for the buildings.
3. Head for the coastline.
4. Head for the mountains.
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Topic: The Mayor - Chapter 2 - Starry Night (Read 4778 times)