Potus, Inauguration Part II

The First Lady pointed at the cameras in front of the lectern and yelled in a stage whisper, “Your speech.  Your speech,” and she kept stabbing her finger toward the front of the balcony.

Potus nodded and smoothed his notes out on the lectern, turning toward the audience.  He glanced at the scrolling text on the reflective surface of the teleprompter.  He hated these with a passion.  He scowled as he read.

SLOW

3

2

1

SMILE

Potus refused to smile.  He half-smirked at his refusal to smile.

YOU’RE

DOING

GREAT

Potus laughed at the silly comments.  Who comes up with this?

STOP

LAUGH-

ING

Potus looked quizzically at the teleprompter cocking his head like the RCA dog listening to its master’s voice.

THEY

ARE

WAIT-

ING

FOR

YOU

TO

START

Potus looked around.  Who was waiting?  The teleprompter showed “TO START” and stopped moving.  “Um,” Potus said and the sound of his amplified voice in the cold air after all that silence startled everyone, including himself.  “Hi,” he said and started his speech.

“Yes, thanks.  Well.  Dear My Fellow Americans,” he began and there was some laughter behind him.  He looked over his shoulder, smoothed his paper notes again, and continued.

“We are gathered here today to witness an orderly procession.  This is the procession of a long line of power secured in the Office of the President.