I thank the Merry Mailwoman and Herbie for purchasing books today.
Here's an excerpt from a short story with a political bent, Actor-Activist, published a few years ago:
A dark-haired, handsome man adjusted the headset he was wearing, leaned toward a
microphone, and eyed his host, a curly-haired man with a toothy grin, who sat up straight
as he received a cue from his producer.
"We're back. If you're just joining us, we've been chatting with actor-activist Alfred Tinto." He looked at his guest. "Al, in our remaining moments, why don't you sum up."
"Thanks, Frank. It's simple, really. The administration lied to justify its war for oil profits. They aren't fooling anybody any more. They have no regard for the working stiff, let alone the poor, women, minorities, or the environment. They're plunderers. The hurricanes revealed them for what they truly are. People are starting to realize this, as the polls indicate. The war in Iraq is doomed. Let's support our troops by bringing them home."
He leaned back, satisfied. His host was smiling.
"I couldn't have said it better. Thank you."
Minutes later Tinto was at a bathroom sink, snorting a line of cocaine. He looked in the mirror and straightened his tie. His suit was tailored perfectly, hugging incipient paunch. His hair was slick, not a single one out of place. He had a gold ring on each pinky.
He hit the street gazing at his Rolex. He did a double-take as a man in uniform, knife handle protruding from his back, brushed past him. He assumed it was some sort of counter protest, and smirked, the issue too serious to have one nod to the clever humor of the ruse.
"Open your eyes," he said. "Read the Times. Don't believe everything your leaders tell you."
"Only the ones you'd vote for," said the ex-Marine, continuing on his way.
“We’re not the ones stabbing you in the back. The administration is.”
Tinto followed him with his eyes. Apparently the display hadn't been intended solely for him, as he'd first believed. So many know-it-alls yelled at him in the street.
Brain-washed, he thought.
Read the rest and other stories here:
http://members.tripod.com/vic_fortezza/Literature/
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