Enculturation of the Soul and The Tragedy of Tyrants
Omal sat on the park bench, eating the sandwich he had prepared himself that morning before leaving for work. He, like everyone else at the plant, worked just six hours. Then his shift ended, and a new group of workers came in and worked their six-hour shift and so on, four times a day. He was happy he was on the early shift. He was able to walk home through the park. The weather was always mild. The Supreme One ensured that every day was a calm day. Often the news would show storms devastating other parts of the world. If only they knew the tranquility brought by the Supreme One. Today there was a sign where the garbage cans used to be. It read, “Please take your trash with you.” The sign had the Supreme One’s stamp on it, so his ponderings ended quickly. “This must be for my benefit.” is how he ended his thoughts on the matter. “Praise be to the Supreme One,” He spoke this aloud as he tidied up and began to walk the rest of the way home. Omal passed by the Cemetery on his way home. The new Crematorium and Composting Farm were almost complete. No more burials, crypts, or shrines. Soon everyone would be returned to the soil to enrich it and make the farms more productive.
The Supreme One was genuinely insightful. The elderly folks flocked to the cemetery in droves. Lately, they seemed to have a more challenging time with the Supreme One’s enlightenment this time around. He shrugged and continued his walk. He hoped to receive time off to visit his birth city before his parents and grandparents were exhumed and cremated. “Praise be to the Supreme One.” He spoke this aloud as he continued his walk. Down the street from his apartment complex, the line for the military recruitment office was long. The sign read, “ Mandatory, all unemployed workers are required to join. by order of the Supreme One.” He felt lucky to have his job. “Praise to the Supreme One.” He said aloud. A couple of young men in line, close to him, heard and repeated the phrase. “Praise to the Supreme One.” those near enough to these young men to listen to their words repeated the phrase aloud. Before long, a chant lasting five or so minutes repeated the phrase over and over again. Omal smiled as he entered his apartment. Indeed the Supreme One had seen and heard the chant that his faithfulness had brought into existence. He ate, showered, and went to bed, for tomorrow would come fast. It always did.
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© 2022, T. Mark Mangum
I am T. Mark Mangum. From an early age, I was hooked and addicted to the imagined, unfathomable worlds of Star Wars, Star Trek, Conan, the Lord of the Rings, and many others. I love writing fiction tales. I love writing in multiple genres. However, my favorites are Sci-fi and Fantasy fiction. I am a father of six; we have two cats and two dogs. Tabletop gaming is a passion.