Front & Center

Dear Jules,

I’m still alive. But the war isn’t over, in spite of the epidemic that’s decimating the troops. They’re calling it The Weinstein Plague.

What I know right now, from reading dispatches, is the enemy has synthesised the original virus and dispersed it indiscriminately throughout the fields of battle. Despicable. Dirty warfare. No bottom to it.

They’re ruthless, cutting down allies who bled for their cause and sought forgiveness for past misdeeds, destroying careers with their unique brand of Mccarthyism, swinging the scythe at will, blinded by power and the chance of a lifetime to seize it.

Many comrades have become cowardly overnight, fleeing at the mere mention of an enemy approach, whimpering like little girls while the world is stolen by radical feminists under false pretence. And now fear of contamination has taken its toll; we have traitors in the ranks, snivelers who turn on a whiff.

Many of us, the ones who’re left and unafraid of the wounds any encounter will certainly bring(some fatal), continue to explore ways to dialogue, but the enemy, drunk on bloodlust, has no interest in amity without submission, and even lesser still, an amnesty to seal the peace.

There are others out there, renegades, claiming to be in this fight, but there’s honour even in war; we reject their vulgar tactics and the banner of gender superiority they fight under. Our fight is for gender equality.

The guns are roaring again. We’re engulfed in a firestorm.
They’ve found new ways to penetrate adolescence looking for crimes.

Am I afraid. No. A man isn’t the same after forty years of learning wrong from right by having actual life experiences, we’re filled with happiness, yes, but regret haunts us along the way, and fear, that someone somewhere who didn’t care for our advances will launch an attack as payback or misunderstanding, and none of us is without flaw, regardless of gender, but one gender enjoys the privilege of Teflon.

You take care, Jules, and, if I survive this unscathed, I hope to greet you again, as friend and equal, same as I always did.

Always your friend,










The Borgia Lex

2 Responses to “Front & Center”
  1. Eric Alagan says:

    And no, I’m not staring at your rack. But is your skin down there beginning to fester and change? Oh, god and to think only a few hours ago, I was running my tongue up and down your hills and valleys. Is it contagious? What a dumb question. It is.

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