A short story written in reflection of Trump's military parade & the simultaneous No Kings protests.

Becoming Wilkinson

"Once upon a time on June 14, 2025".
And one day in June, a broken, poor little boy stole money from his uncle and threw himself a big party and a parade. He lined up all his toy tanks and his toy soldiers. He pretended to be important as he stood behind his little glass-enclosed podium and watched as the festivities unfolded before him.
He was surrounded by (those whom he had convinced himself were) his friends. But they all knew the truth. They weren't real friends. He had bought them with favors and gifts. Their friendships were nothing but transactions on paper with loyalty written in water.
He was hidden behind the podium, but there were some who were sitting close to him who could see the truth. They remained silent as they observed that his small feet could not come close to filling the shoes he was wearing. His body, though chubby for his age, was overwhelmed by the oversized suit he was trying to wear.
Simultaneously, in all the villages near and far, the true warriors gathered. They knew their secret power. They gathered in love, realized that they were united in brotherhood and they simply stood and let their light shine for all to see. The light from each village shot in beams overhead.
The beams joined forces above, becoming a bright, white cosmic mass - shining into the darkness for the entire world to see. The light began to affect the clouds overhead. The water began to pour out of the clouds. As the rain hit the people gathered in the villages, they began to smile and laugh and sing and dance. They were experiencing the joy of the real party.
But as the rain hit the small boy’s parade, it began to wash away and disintegrate his small toys as if they were made of paper. The street before him became a river. The water overwhelmed the boy’s podium, turning it over and knocking him to the ground. He slipped out of his oversized suit. His big-boy shoes washed away. Various folks who had come to observe his party and parade, (and his so-called friends) all dashed for cover, leaving him utterly alone.
He stood up, with nothing left accept the cameras that he had placed to show off his pretend party to the world. But the world finally saw the truth: Everyone looked down with pity and disgust at the broken, naked, friendless little poor boy with no clothes.
© Wilkinson/2025