I was going to church when I saw him. My eyes locked onto the bright crimson red of his tie. I exhaled softly, barely audible.
He noticed. Trump noticed.
His thick meaty neck swivelled and his small glistening eyes met mine. He flashed me a smooth smile, his shining teeth contrasting thin flesh lips. Slowly, he strutted over to me, grabbed my hand and started leading me to The White House.
"Baby, are you America? Because I'll ruin you," he breathed into my ear. I shivered.
We entered a room labeled 'VERY GOOD PRESIDENT OF AMERICA.' I was pushed lightly, carefully and, surprisingly, respectfully onto a golden bed. Trump towered above me.
Suddenly, his phone rang from the inside of his pocket. I stole a glance at the caller ID.
Putin.
He stared down at his phone, tears welling from his eyes and trickling into flabby amber face folds.
"Sorry. I can't do this," Trump said. "Get out. You're fired."
Written by @annamontimoo on twitter
