The Emptiness

He stood there, sun beating down on him, thinking about what he would have for dinner. Still not sure why he had ever wanted this job in the first place. The money was nice, the vacation time wonderful, great retirement benefits. There was just something very demeaning about being a president. Especially President of the United States. 

He stood in the pathway of what he had personally come to refer to as Valhalla Boulevard because he knew where these boys were going and that most of them wouldn't be coming back. His secretary handed him the speech cards as someone else straightened his tie before he went on stage. 

"Smile at camera one, then two, wave at the crowd, smile to my wife, begin speech. Smile, wave, shake one hand from stage facing camera one."

He muttered it a few times under his breath, then practiced his stage smile a few times before being summoned to the podium. This is it, he thought, I've spent my life being preened and primped to be a stage puppet for people to make jabs at. 

There was really nothing more to the job then to look pretty for cameras, reading speeches and signing bills written by God knows who. Everyone bustling about, taking commands, yet no one really knowing who is in charge. The ambiguous "they" that is everyone and no one all at once. Pointing fingers at this one man, the potential cause for the entire universe of human suffering. A mere jester, smiling for a camera as the emptiness swells up to consume him. 

His final thought before ascending to the spotlight, if they want change why isn't anyone taking action?