I was on my way out of the house the other morning, heading for a casual walk in the park, and there was a long line of people there, quibbling and agitating and maneuvering to get to the front of the line.
"I'm hungry," said the first guy, "I'll take a look in your frig to see what I can eat."
"My three kids want to go to college," said the second in line. "Make the check out to cash."
"Not workin'. I can sell that painting over there. It should bring in enough for a month or so."
"I and the wife and the seven kids should have health insurance, shouldn't they? I'll put it on your tab."
"The roads in my country need a lot of work. We only need $7 billion."
"We have no place to stay. We can bed down over there by the tree."
"The company I was working for isn't doing well. $175 a month should help them. Cash only."
A sudden surge of the ever lengthening line of screaming people flooded into my home, taking, grabbing anything and everything I had worked so hard for. Someone pulled my sweater off. The surge threw me down and the mob trampled over me, knocking me out.
When I awoke, I thought it had been only a dream, a nightmare.
It hadn't been. It was real. 2013 America.
I could hear the mob chanting:
WHAT DO WE WANT?
WE WANT IT ALL
WHEN DO WE WANT IT?
WE WANT IT NOW
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