RedPoem.net

The roar of the crowd was muted by the thick walls of the room. Inside the anticipatory atmosphere dripped down the neck of the orators handlers. Their collars stiff and hands shaking, each one nervous about the thousands of people gathered outside the bunker.

The speaker was calm. Their eyes focused and clear, looking into the mirror and meeting themselves. Mouth moving quickly and quietly, the speech was practiced over and over again. Arm raising in vigorous gestures, their emblazoned movements emphasized each word.

With one last flourish, arm pumping in a strengthened pose, they finished and looked upwards towards the would be sky before back into the mirror. Satisfied, they splashed water on their face one last time and slapped their cheeks. Invigorating the blood in their face as they marched out of the room, ready to invigorate the people amassed outside.