He was about to slumber, alone in the White House on this winter’s Christmas Eve. Melania and the boys were in Mar-A-Lago. Congress and a quarter of the Federal workforce was shut down. The few advisers that he still listened to had suggested he not to go to Florida with the rest of the family. With so many Fed employees not working and not having extra money for the holidays, they felt that it would look bad for him to take a vacation at this time. Better to go later after the whole shut-down thing had blown over and no one would be paying attention. He had to stay in D.C. and stew in the juices of the soup he himself had made.
Wearily he prepared himself for bed. As usual, comments from the press criticizing him ran unchecked through his head. He was unable to control or stop them. He lay down in bed and, knowing sleep would not be soon in coming, began his nightly barrage of tweets, mostly focusing on the very disturbances going through his mind.
Thirty minutes later the tweets did their magic and together with the sleeping pill he took he meandered into that realm between waking thoughts and the peace of slumber.
It was this in this dark purgatory of repose that the first apparition appeared. It came first as a disembodied voice- “Ebeneezer……ooops!…….I mean ‘Donald’!……Donald!……..why do you not understand?” Read more Trump Visited By Ghosts Of Anti-Communists Past