DREAM A LITTLE DREAM WITH TRUMP
" Whatz The Day Trump Goes Away (For Good)?” Author STEPHEN WEIR's business card FICTION: A Windsor U Creative Writing Assignment by STEPHEN WEIR The gentle tap tap quickly birthed a knock knock followed by a kick kick at the base of my front door. Someone wanted me wide awake, like yesterday. “Hey Dream Boy, rise and shine,” barked a loud voice from the other side of my solid oak front door. Was that a faint French accent lurking in that military staccato? “ Mange la merde”, I screamed back. I wasn’t going to give up on my disturbing nightmare without a fight and I knew this man. “ It’s Justin, he knows.” My unrequested wake-up service out shrieked me. This wasn’t going to end well. “What does his majesty know? And why does he suddenly want to speak to me after the last time? “I took it down a notch. “The PM knows about you and Monsieur Trump. Aussi Mr. Joe.” ‘How could this be?’ I asked myself. I only finished the dream when he started kicking the door minutes