Author: Charles Metzner

I am the Onceler. I spoke for the board.                      I spoke of good commerce. I spoke to the horde. Who’d wanted our products, in burgeoning amounts.  Who’d wanted the Truffula, investment accounts. Who’d wanted overstock, of a dwindling supply. Who’d wanted knit clothing, when winter drew nigh. Who’d wanted the beach wear; who’d wanted nice…

Unless you’ve been in some ebola quarantine for the past year you already know there’s been a widening war in the Middle East, picking up steam like a plurality of fusing hurricanes. News anchors keep speaking as though we’re merely nearing it, but like in a fog bank, it’s already here. A glance backward will…