Dating : Qelalah: Donald J. Trump After Coronavirus

In place of his signature black suit and red tie, he wore a loose-fitting robe of plain, sand-colored cloth, folded in the style of a kimono. His feet were adorned with simple wooden sandals.

Trump stepped forward slowly and serenely, raising both hands with palms outward. “My friends,” he began, in a voice that shocked the onlookers. It was worn and strained, but with a newfound serenity, and sounded as if it radiated from a core of wisdom, of warmth. “I’ve spent this past week with the wisest of teachers,” he continued. “A teacher I have, until now, taken great pains to avoid.” He lowered his arms and crossed his hands over his belly as the crowd hushed into silence. Rain began to fall, a soft pitter-patter of drops on the pavement. Trump looked skyward and allowed the drops to fall on him.

“This teacher’s name is Suffering. Not a suffering inflicted by others, but a suffering experienced alone, within oneself. A suffering which you cannot ignore, cannot flee… only endure. But being cast down into the darkest, loneliest pit makes one ever appreciate the light. The light of life.” He turned towards Melania, who stood by his side, and raised an open hand. “The light of love.” A golden Connecticut Warbler alighted on his golden palm and a single tear rolled down Trump’s cheek. The rain began to slow and the sun’s rays shone fiercely from behind a dark cloud. The warbler flew away with a single optimistic chirrup.

He lowered his head as his voice grew quiet and sincere. “The folly of my ways is as clear, as plain to me now, as that sun overhead. To think that I’ve spent much of my life in pursuit of base interests… of money… of power. These memories cause me pain rivalling that which was inflicted on my lungs by the coronavirus. And the greatest shame of all? That I was privileged to be in a position where I could achieve good — true and honest good — and failed to do so. A failure worse than failure, for I chose the darkness over the light. And for this I will never be able to atone.” He looked to the sky. “I do not deserve forgiveness. I do not deserve redemption. And I do not ask for them. That time has long passed.”

He raised both arms and a flock of white turtle doves landed on his arms, head, and hands. “My friends, I hereby dedicate my life to my fellow Man. To use every resource at my disposal to ease suffering. To ensure that no person, regardless of their race, gender, or identity, need worry that they will not have a roof over their head, nourishing and warm food in their belly, or access to quality medical care whenever they need it.” The sun emerged and the crowd again gasped as a single, then double, then triple rainbow arced across the sky.

“I pledge to you now that I will work tirelessly to make America a land where the common man is treated with love, with compassion, and with the utmost respect. Where the wellbeing of people, not money, not corporations, are the sole focus of our governing bodies. I hereby relinquish ownership of Trump Tower. This shall be renamed ‘The People’s Tower’ and used to house our most vulnerable. I hereby relinquish all of my wealth, all of my assets, to the people.” He lowered his arms and reached behind his back, revealing a long wooden flute that had been tucked into his kimono.

“And should I lose the office of the Presidency, should I lose all power to affect positive change, I shall wander the streets, doing what I can to share love with the people. Helping lift my fellow man. Living off the kindness of strangers, and reciprocating that kindness tenfold. Wherever you hear my flute, there shall I be. Wave as I pass, friends. Share a loaf if you are able. And call me not ‘Trump,’ but ‘Qelalah,’ my new name which means ‘curse’ in Hebrew; so that I may not be allowed to escape my past sins.” He raised his flute to his lips and blew softly. A soft, wet fart sounded from his kimono as the flute produced a gentle note. “Oops… I shit my pants,” said Qelalah. “I’ve always done that a lot, and the virus has not helped in that regard. Not one bit.”

He placed the flute back into his kimono. “Be with God, my friends. Bask in the warmth of your fellow man. I look forward to joining you, as a leader if you will permit me, and as a brother if you will not. May we journey peacefully into that promised land, into a tomorrow, bright and golden, and fight so that our children may grow up in a world reborn, renewed, with love, and liberty, and justice for all.” The crowd began to cheer, and with a soft smile, Trump descended the steps to meet the crowd below.