The mandate holding their ears to attention was quilted in velvet, but perhaps more pressingly. The spectacle unfolding had already sparked plenty of public interest when the growing number of onlookers realized from the insignia the tool sported on the side of his vehicle, had to be royal. The tussle of the crowd knocked Jacob to the ground, a resounding pound to the head he’d complain about for weeks beyond this. Whether fortunate or not he missed what he would later hear as a promiscuous catalogue of sequentially odious drones. The moans of the town finally fell silent. The excitement suppressed an experimentally loud voice and just as the technician adjusted the volume key, the moment they’d all gather for had arrived.
He spoke disrespectfully, clinically, generally and politically of the matters that matter to our beloved borders. One would of thought that the subject ought be individual, failing that, at least locally helpful. The resulting resent perplexing the irrational negotiations from a land far, far away. The day all can have their peace is still but a dream. One day or another, our way will be the day.
As demeaning as it seems, the representations that have been deemed most optimal boil down to one simple objective; self preservation.