Malcolm Potter was desperate enough to finally make the pilgrimage. He once thought it was all silly nonsense, but things had gone too far. The monster in the White House had made an incredible mess over the past two years, rolling back environmental protections so that his rich buddies could clear cut and strip mine, even in national parks, chipping away at abortion rights, healthcare, protections for all marginalized populations across the board, and having a religious fanatic as his Vice President. The nation was spinning out of control.
He had been a staunch atheist for most of this five decades of life, and couldn’t understand why religions were still tolerated since they were one of the major causes of war, oppression, persecution, and colonialism. Yet, even though his last hope was firmly grounded in superstition and belief in the occult, it was still a hope. Only the stone could restore the correct orientation of the world, and return it to a course that ultimately would lead to utopia.
“Who are you?” Malcolm thought he’d be the only one here, but a woman was standing on the other side of the stone.
“Who are you and what do you want?” She was young, maybe mid-twenties, and seemed positively terrified of the newly arrived man.
“My name’s Malcolm. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Why did you come here? The old lady said she hadn’t told anyone else about the stone.”
“Old lady? My mediation instructor is a forty-five year old man and he said the same thing.”
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