“The Oath of Office” / A Memorable Fancy #178

At night, statues of dead presidents creep through the streets of the capital, scraping along on their stone legs seeking a better park to adorn, a more noticeable corner, a place where wreaths are more apt to be placed. Sometimes the statues encounter each other, and fight. Citizens bet on which will topple into the street, head broken off, stone sword crushed. Statues who meet this fate are stricken from the official list of presidents, their adherents warned never to speak their names again.

The next stone face is then sworn in, vows to continue these entertainments that so successfully distract us from our fate.