Once upon a time, there was a crone. A twisted, nonsensical, twitching-eyed crone, who found herself in a position of power that she hadn’t earned, and had no idea how to handle.
This crone was a self-important bully, pandering to peers of similar class and opportunity, looking down on anything less as though it was something on the bottom of her shoe. So uninterested in helping those that needed help and instead favouring ideas and customs that meant even more divide between rich and poor, that even some of her followers began to have doubts (not enough though; c’mon, people, open your eyes).
This crone was not, however, unintelligent. Conniving, and sneaky, yes. Without heart, absolutely. But clever, nonetheless. For when those with opposing views to her were at their most weak, was when she struck, calling on the populace to formerly choose her as their leader, when the others had no hope in hell – no resources, funds or cohesion – to stand a chance of fighting back.
Now. The world around her, wider afield than her own fair isle, was in trouble. So much trouble, in fact, that it was hard to know where to look to first for signs of when the Next Bad Thing would strike. And this crone, she played her people like pawns, the perfect chess player, planning strategic moves several steps ahead.
What the crone didn’t realise, was, that even if she was successful, even if she did manage to win an overall confidence vote simply because there lacked anyone else to have much confidence in, it didn’t mean that the people would stay quiet. It didn’t mean they would be denied their voices, no matter how hard she tried to suppress them, and shut them down. This isle had been forged on wars and civil disputes, and there was an undercurrent of turning, just about everywhere people looked. Pacifists sat there on the sidelines hoping history wouldn’t repeat itself. Torch bearers ignited and incited, whispering things about differences as evils, that scaremongered, called meek-minded into battles they were in no way ready for, or even believing in, just following like sheep.
We can only hope that whatever comes next will result in a happy ever after, where people are treated with respect, quality, and dignity, instead of the rabbled remains of a nation that was once powerful, and now is nothing but a laughing stock clawing at the rest of the world for survival, being kicked away like a street urging scrabbling at its heels.