Sun King, Exposed
Give some writers real life events and they’ll convert them into cute children’s stories, subverting the edgy details into moralizing fluff for taming little brats, while inflating the supposed parental wisdom.
Well, here’s how it went.
I was still king then, before I left that nonsense and moved to this mountain retreat and became a writer. The country was obsessed, as most are, with their traditions and national pride. Oh how they all love the empty fanfare of monarchy.
The preparations were going on for the annual Sun Day celebrations. An absurd amount of coin was allocated for the processional gown.
Gossip they will, and the peasantry was on about how it was to be spun of gold.
The day came and my procession emerged from the castle and made its way through the city. I kept a straight face as I came out dressed in nothing!
Everybody was laughing, everybody was happy, everyone was cheering: Here comes the Sun King! But they couldn’t admit what they were seeing, a man’s naked flesh! After all — nakedness was sex, and sex was an animal, and animal was death — so they all pretended to see the gold garment.
When I got back to the castle, aghast at the gullibility of the masses, I took the funds that were to be foolishly spent on gold fabric, snuck out at night, bought myself this home and created for myself this new identity.
But to hear Hans tell it ...
© AleXander Hirka 2019. All Rights Reserved.
Heliocentric Redux 2019
Heliocentric. October 2018 writing project — one short sketch a day, under 250 words each, circling like a planet around The Sun.
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Tempest Tossed in New York City — writing and art and life in New York City.