This is a short fiction story I wrote about Mitt Romney, our next president

Mitt Romney shambles out of his castle one particularly foggy solstice night. He lets out frustrated sobs as he rips off his silk nightshirt, exposing the cursed scorpion tattoo a gypsy had needled directly onto his now thinly beating heart many moons ago. The patch of flesh this totem occupied had begun to burn almost unbearably, despite the damp frigid air and the occasional tear drop that fell upon it.

He continues to walk through the lingering mist that stubbornly beckons him through his courtyard, past the outskirts of his gated community, and into the forest beyond. He hikes through the forest for some time, and crosses a large circle of scattered rocks enclosing a patch of flat dead grass shaped like a human silhouette. Mitt walks directly onto the dread spot and lies facing upwards towards a blind God. His body conforms perfectly to the shape.

He sees an owl perched solemnly on a thin branch almost overlooking him, and when their eyes meet it turns and flies away. Mitt's gaze turns to soak up the full moon's light. His eyes rapidly widen and then shut completely. Romney sleeps.

As he rests, hundreds of animals that make their home in the surrounding wilds gather around the circle and wait. Finally a rabbit hops towards him, spellbound, compelled by some strange dark force. The other creatures immediately follow. Mitt's nearly still heart stares at the approaching group of animals. When they reach him at the center of the circle, it beats one final time.

The unholy power of this single heartbeat tears through the crowd of forest critters and they die grotesque and unfathomable deaths, their souls instantly captured in the prison of Romney's black, tainted being.

Unseen forces object to this perversion.

Mitt awakes nourished and draped in unlife.

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Thank you for reading. All comments are welcome.

1/20/12- made a few edits