Keep His Name Out of the Papers

by , under Flash Fiction, Friday Fictioneers

melanie-greenwood

I didn’t participate in the interrogations. My role was to observe. Under no circumstances was I to interfere.

Never a large man,  he became smaller. Fragile. And in the end, broken.

When I first saw him, some of his former power still clung to him. He made demands, threats. Commanded a certain respect, even there.

Of course, all  property had been seized. The mansions, the jet. Once in custody, they gave him an orange jumpsuit . He started to lose other things. Control of the situation, control of his fate. Finally, control of his body itself.

I watched him lose everything.

 

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