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Books, Humor, Satire

ONE PERCENT SOLUTION . . . (one page per day) Page 97 of 252

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A satire of dysfunctional politics and economic disparity.  

Chapter IX: Day/Page 97 CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY. . . .  It was a sound argument to those leaning right. And so, vowing that the sinister woman he was forced to set free would be the last evil monster to slip beneath the wire, the prosecutor and judge, working closely with their KKK Pinheaded friends, passed new measures placing the burden of proof on defendants; mandating that, in the event of a miscarriage, the woman had to dutifully collect and respectfully present the fetal remains to the proper authorities. Said authorities would then examine the remains for evidence of foul play, and, if no foul play was found, issue a bona fide “Certificate of Miscarriage” attesting to the woman’s innocence in the matter. For how else could one know if the providential pregnancy had been terminated early by the benevolent hand of a god, or the barbarous hand of a doctor?

With the loop hole cinched tight, the prosecutor and judge were ready and waiting when the second case crossed their docket, involving a married woman who had allegedly been beaten, tortured, and repeatedly raped in her home by an unknown assailant, while her husband and two daughters were away visiting their ailing grandmother.

During two months of recovery in the hospital, her doctors learned that the woman had been blessed with conception during the alleged brutal rape, and so they reported her condition to the proper authorities, as prescribed by law. Months later, as part of the government’s new due-diligence in all pregnancy matters, two enthusiastic case officers made a surprise visit to the woman’s home to see how the “blessed event” was proceeding, following the fortuitously life-giving rape.

When, to their horror, the two eager young men saw that she was no longer pregnant, and knowing that no fetal remains had been dutifully presented, and no Certificate of Miscarriage issued—the diligent case officers had already checked with both agencies before calling on the woman—they immediately notified the prosecutor, as was their duty to do, and the divinely-inspired inquisition was afoot. The prosecutor called the judge, both sprang into action, and before the day was over they had the dastardly woman and her horrible husband locked up tightly behind bars, while the two young girls, aged twelve and fifteen, went back to stay with the ailing grandmother.

Both the judge and prosecutor knew the woman and her husband were guilty—just like they knew the time before. But now, thanks to the divinely-inspired work of the KKK, they were blissfully unencumbered by burdensome laws requiring proof, and so nothing hampered their zealous quest for truth.

The trial lasted for weeks and was the subject of spirited debate on all the local and national television shows. The husband, who happened to be a doctor as well, was charged with premeditated first-degree murder for carrying out the vicious abortion himself; and the wife was accused of second-degree murder for lying there and letting him do it.

The wife lamely claimed that she had suffered a miscarriage, most likely brought on by her weakened condition and fragile mental state following the brutal assault by the unknown assailant, who, as yet, had still not been apprehended. When cross-examined as to why she failed to  . . .


Available on Amazon , Barnes & NobleKobo, and Smashwords in Digital and Paperback versions. 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Gregory James      All rights reserved


About Gregory James

After 20 years working and living overseas, I returned to the US and was disgusted by how partisan and polarized the country had become. Civility and compromise are now quaint things of the past, replaced by intolerance and the rule of extremes. So I gave up a lucrative career for staring at blank pages and searching for words, in the hope that words might help enact change. Stupid. . . . I know! But after 9 months of labor I birthed forth a book, entitled ONE PERCENT SOLUTION. Reminiscent of Vonnegut, with a dash of Saramago and Fforde, this humorous, satirical, often irreverent romp mocks the absurd we accept to be normal, ridicules the ridiculously low bar we set, and challenges all of us to demand more of ourselves by making light of what is sacred that shackles us.


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