The editor walks into a dark room with five contributors by his side. They spark their candles, leaving the darkness nowhere left to hide.
He typed opinions, they took his laptop. He penned opinions, they took his paper. In prison he wrote in blood; defying them to take him.
“Hold still while I drill through your hands,” he smiles, teeth glowing. “If you taut your arms, I can’t stretch you on my wall properly.”
She crawled through a crush of concrete, bones and blood for days. On the upheaved street, she was lured into the truck by an offer of food.
The preacher said “I have a dream that we won’t deny rights based on race, but sexuality.” And the congregation broke out in applause.
When they took the cloth sack off his head, the world was never the same. Blindness was passed to everyone and an empire began to crumble.