A penny and a key, that's all she had in her pocket, because nobody is perfect. And the moon and the stars both hang with blank stares, because they're just objects in the sky. But when Megan traced her fingers across David's Creativity Alliance patch, she got goose bumps. She felt alive. And she'd wonder why that Crowned W was so powerful.
As that thought faded away, she finished the dishes. David would be home soon. And he expected a clean and tiny house. She knew the routine. A quick peck. A quick hello. And he would be off to read a chapter of Adolf Hitler's masterpiece, 'Mein Kampf'. She admired his dedication and knew from talks with her girlfriends, that David was different. Sometimes she would join him. And he'd read aloud the passages. The passion, the way in which Hitler conveyed his motives and ideas appealed to her very much. Megan enjoyed these little moments together.
The door slammed and David stood before her. His clothes were dirty and beyond used. Working at the plant was hard work. No benefits. No breaks. Just more work. And a tiny paycheck at the end of the week.
"There's got to be a better way to earn a living" David said as he pulled off his boots. Megan slid in and kissed his forehead.
"If Klassen were alive, he'd fix this!" Then he met her eyes with his own and for a second - the pain was gone. The aching subsided. And he took her into his arms.
The clock betrayed Megan and revealed it was 20 till 9. She hated the night shift, but the bills and life dictated she and David both work. Damn family traditions. Damn vital male and female roles. In this day and age, absent of National Socialist values, and White people shamingly shunning The Church, women were forced to shovel off their kids to daycare and faithfully clock in just like their husbands.
As she searched for her apron and name badge, Megan found David's latest issue of 'Racial Loyalty'. Here it seemed, like minded folk shared their thoughts, beliefs, and stories. They called each other 'brother' and men were recognized as Reverends after years of sacrifice and putting the White Race first. The newsletter seemed to hold family and the Aryan Race as a whole, above all else.
"How rare...." she thought, as she leafed through the program and then without hesitation tucked it in her purse for later reading and was out the door.
Tuesday came around and Megan had this unscratchable itch. Its the itch that lives within all of us. She knew she watched too much TV. Filling her head and heart with useless trash - but she watched anyway. She knew telling the truth, no matter the consequences, was the best way to handle any situation- but she lied anyway. Her blue eyes teared up. She hugged her perfect pink skin and swore a change would be made.
David had told her over and over that it was silly to base life on how much Chinese made junk people had. That a life as a Creator was about community, folk, and carrying one's self with pride and honor. In doing that, she'd would find true happiness and satisfaction. She could hear his voice now, and she smiled.
That night, with the lights turned low and the cold sheets pulled to their chins, Megan whispered, "I'm in David".
He turned over on one elbow, "In what.... in trouble? In love?" He nudged her lovingly.
"No, your way of life. I want to be part of The Church. A Creator!" her eyes beamed.
David brushed the hair from her face, "A Creator, huh? There's so much that goes into it. Are you sure you're ready?"
The smile she gave off as she answered "yes" could have powered 20 cities.
"Then we'll start first thing in the morning!"
And with those words, a new life awaited them both.
TUNE IN NEXT THURSDAY 6/8/17 FOR PART II
As that thought faded away, she finished the dishes. David would be home soon. And he expected a clean and tiny house. She knew the routine. A quick peck. A quick hello. And he would be off to read a chapter of Adolf Hitler's masterpiece, 'Mein Kampf'. She admired his dedication and knew from talks with her girlfriends, that David was different. Sometimes she would join him. And he'd read aloud the passages. The passion, the way in which Hitler conveyed his motives and ideas appealed to her very much. Megan enjoyed these little moments together.
The door slammed and David stood before her. His clothes were dirty and beyond used. Working at the plant was hard work. No benefits. No breaks. Just more work. And a tiny paycheck at the end of the week.
"There's got to be a better way to earn a living" David said as he pulled off his boots. Megan slid in and kissed his forehead.
"If Klassen were alive, he'd fix this!" Then he met her eyes with his own and for a second - the pain was gone. The aching subsided. And he took her into his arms.
The clock betrayed Megan and revealed it was 20 till 9. She hated the night shift, but the bills and life dictated she and David both work. Damn family traditions. Damn vital male and female roles. In this day and age, absent of National Socialist values, and White people shamingly shunning The Church, women were forced to shovel off their kids to daycare and faithfully clock in just like their husbands.
As she searched for her apron and name badge, Megan found David's latest issue of 'Racial Loyalty'. Here it seemed, like minded folk shared their thoughts, beliefs, and stories. They called each other 'brother' and men were recognized as Reverends after years of sacrifice and putting the White Race first. The newsletter seemed to hold family and the Aryan Race as a whole, above all else.
"How rare...." she thought, as she leafed through the program and then without hesitation tucked it in her purse for later reading and was out the door.
Tuesday came around and Megan had this unscratchable itch. Its the itch that lives within all of us. She knew she watched too much TV. Filling her head and heart with useless trash - but she watched anyway. She knew telling the truth, no matter the consequences, was the best way to handle any situation- but she lied anyway. Her blue eyes teared up. She hugged her perfect pink skin and swore a change would be made.
David had told her over and over that it was silly to base life on how much Chinese made junk people had. That a life as a Creator was about community, folk, and carrying one's self with pride and honor. In doing that, she'd would find true happiness and satisfaction. She could hear his voice now, and she smiled.
That night, with the lights turned low and the cold sheets pulled to their chins, Megan whispered, "I'm in David".
He turned over on one elbow, "In what.... in trouble? In love?" He nudged her lovingly.
"No, your way of life. I want to be part of The Church. A Creator!" her eyes beamed.
David brushed the hair from her face, "A Creator, huh? There's so much that goes into it. Are you sure you're ready?"
The smile she gave off as she answered "yes" could have powered 20 cities.
"Then we'll start first thing in the morning!"
And with those words, a new life awaited them both.
TUNE IN NEXT THURSDAY 6/8/17 FOR PART II
