President

President, the light of my life, the fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. President: the tip of the tongue takes three steps down the palate to hit the teeth on the third. Pre. Zee. Dent.

You died yesterday. For what? Why? With us is the affectionate, beloved President, with our enemies is the formidable President, with our opponents is the cunning President, building multi-step plans. You left us.

And now you are being carried in a coffin to the cemetery. So that your bodies, white and airy, are devoured by worms.

It's not fair. I, a young and successful entrepreneur (owner of a funeral home), never held your hand. And these nasty worms will eat you, devour your arms, legs, your soft, tender brain.

I won't allow it!

But what can I do?

I'm watching you being buried on TV. You're so peaceful with those little arms on your chest. A sleeping beauty you just want to kiss.

God, how I love you! Since childhood, your parents instilled this love for you. They talked about how you live, what you do and what you think. They said you were cunning and smart. We listened excitedly to your interviews with journalists who were eager to get to you: “What do you think? What is your personal life like? And Alaska? And Crimea? What about that? And this? Answer! Answer! The people want to know the truth!” And you looked at them with the gaze of a celestial, smiled condescendingly, and then answered:

“Perhaps there was no such thing that once - and changed my life, that is, there was, but the influence ... Now I’ll try to say it seriously ...

And I listened, listened, listened. I couldn't forget you! And now I can’t.

Now everything is decided. I'm packing my backpack. The most necessary things. I look around the apartment one last time. I say goodbye.

Night has fallen to the ground. I climb over the fence and quietly sneak among the tombstones and monuments through the necropolis, the kingdom of Hades, generous and hospitable.

And here is the president's grave.

I take out a shovel and start digging. Several meters of earth separate me from Him. I don't feel tired anymore. I wish I could see him soon!

I’m already opening the coffin with a crowbar. And he, lying peacefully, appears before me. Sleeping Beauty. I kiss him right on the lips, so sugary and tender.

I take the president out of the coffin. I won't hand you over to the worms, no. I won’t let them devour your snow-white body.

I take a knife and a hammer out of my backpack. A couple of blows to the skull - and my teeth sink into your tender-sweet brain.

I'll eat you myself.