This book is my collection of short stories based on a future distorted by the Trump presidency. I began working on the concept back when nobody thought he would actually be elected. It was meant to be an exploration of an alternate world, but unfortunately it has become very real.

Here are excerpts from the beginning of each story:

 

Twisted Threads

The huge TrumpVision tower was a monument to everything Robert Gravel hated. Every time he stood on top of it, he considered pissing down the side of the building. He wouldn’t be the first person to do so, but he knew it was useless. The tower could absorb a lot of piss and still stand there looking out over the world it had ruined.

Besides, TrumpVision paid him well.

 

The Diversion

When the Generals finally acted, I received just enough of a warning to act upon.

There was not a lot I could do, though, and what happened was not my fault. Not the revolution and not what happened to the people I was supposed to protect.

After I gave the word that diverted the Ivanka Trump plane and kept us out of the hands of the plotters, the head of her security detail tried to come down hard on me.

¨How did you know? When did you know? Why didn’t you warn everyone?¨

I didn’t know much. I got just a hint as we were taking off from Berlin. The hint came through a blind online game I played with a few old friends. The word went around, but with no real details. I didn’t what would happen, but it was enough for me to make a scene.

Not sure what I would have done had I known more.

 

Are Humans Sentient?

A wave of shame, guilt and rage rushed over me. A hand held my head down as some tool extracted the control implant from my brain. In a moment I felt everything that the implant had been repressing for five years.

I didn’t know the creature removing it. It wore a male humansuit, one that I didn’t recognize even with my enhanced senses.

He was not setting me free as an act of mercy, he wanted me to destroy my boss. I would love to see her destroyed, but I was just one human woman with few resources living in a world where other humans had no idea about the truth and would never believe me if I told them.

My fate was almost certain. Death, probably roasted and eaten as well.

 

Chasing the Heart

Somebody was dying in Texas and I was in Alabama. The alarm went off, telling me it was 2a.m. and the chopper would be here to pick me up in 30 minutes.

Tony woke up in seconds and was processing the information while I showered and got myself ready. He stopped me before I started shaving.

¨It´s a small town full of engineers who work two or three days at home, but they have to drive six hours into the city once or twice a week for face-time. They don’t shave to go to the hospital in the middle of the night,¨ he said.

That made sense. Tony had picked out my clothes; rough but clean. Humble. Except for the expensive watch, and the gun.

Rising Waters

Brian worked his way down the ruins of Queen Street in Old Alexandria towards the entrance to the hole. His wife, Janet, called it the Dark Hole, and joked that it held the dark side of Brian’s life. There was standing water and sludge all around the entrance to the hole. When the Potomac reached flood stage, the entrance was sometimes covered.

The two bricks in front of the entrance were both all the way to the right. That meant Peter was already inside. They had created a set of signals, but only used two, sometimes three. Occupied, and rarely “occupied with guest.” Only Peter used that one. Brian had not been with any woman but Janet for the last twenty five years, since the night of the Trump election.

Their safe hole was a relic of the prepper craze, back when people thought the biggest threat was some other country bombing the United States, before we turned our own climate against us. Brian closed the hatch above him and kicked off his muddy shoes. They kept slippers in the airlock, but he didn’t bother. His socks were still dry.

“Hola!” he yelled while sealing the main door. The interior rooms were just separated by curtains, and he never wanted to catch Peter with his porn collection again. It was enough that he had to live with the image of Peter cuddling on the sofa with his now wife. It had been Peter and Janet for two years, with Brian tagging along. Then, that night of the election, before it was clear what was happening, the image of Peter, white skinny and shirtless, snuggled up to Janet´s soft brown body.

“In the back!” Peter yelled. Brian didn’t answer, just started putting away the supplies he’d brought with him. Sodas and frozen pot pies mostly.