Perhaps a figure materialized out of the morning haze and suggested that he had enemies and that they must be destroyed. Perhaps he hears disembodied voices telling him to pull out the Reynolds Wrap and begin framing the walls, ceiling and floor so that he can have one room safe from the presence of those sinister ‘others’, from the end times almost upon him. The Republican Party has become the ragged big man slouching along the sidewalk, his bulk and scalding eyes acting like force fields; no one will come near him. One of his hands clenches and unclenches, fist to spread-open palm and back to fist, and his other hand, suddenly, becomes fitted with a pistol that he waves in the swirling air at fearful visions.
The United States is roughly 24 to 36 hours away from defaulting on our debt and fracturing tens of millions of lives through massive job loss, interest rate convulsions, Treasury Securities upheavals and a thousand other moving, evolving calamities, and the terrifying man rocking the gun back and forth may be the one to bring on this apocalypse he has so fervidly imagined.