They call him the Peacemaker, the Saviour, Liberator.
He came, riding in a red coat, windswept and bedraggled – he set the people free.
Free from their masters, free from their owners.
He came and fought and killed and died – he set the people free.
They rose up, cast down the slave-holders and the nobility, took our horses and our houses and our women for their own. Set us to work, in the fields, indentured servants to the new revolutionary aristocracy.
I don’t mind, herding my little goats in the graveyard.
I get to watch them shit on his grave.
Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. Comments and criticism always welcome.