The Vice President’s Closet: Part 2

Nano Fiction

Darkness. Musty darkness. The touch of wool or polyester. Does it really matter at this point?

Just moments ago the closet beckoned. It promised an odd opportunity to see what life might be like beyond starched whites and silken four-in-hands. As a young man I had a choice. I could have chosen a party that guarded a mass of material wealth with a tyrannical hierarchy. But no, no, I chose the path of social responsibility and community living. I believed in redemption. Now closed in this dark mire of suffocating egalitarianism I wonder if there ever was a choice. Which way is Narnia? Damn, too many walls.