I am tied to a chair, my arms and legs bound. The gruff man holds a gun to my head. “Talk,” he says.
I struggle instead, in an attempt to get
free.
He laughs, and gives the chair a kick. “You
ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he says, amused. “There’s but one planet. And you’re on
it.” He puts a hand on my chair, to steady it. “So, talk,” he repeats, “about
climate change.”
But I refuse.
He
presses the barrell of his weapon hard now against the side of my head. “Last
chance,” he says, and grins.
I clinch my teeth and wait. Aren’t they
supposed to offer you a blindfold? Isn’t there a law about that?
Click says the gun, followed by a moment of
subdued silence.
“Don’t worry,” says the man, five more
chances.
And I wake up from what I convince myself
was only a dream.
