The Life and Timely Death of a Measly Man

Contributor: Daniel Rosales

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Martin Clark is not a man unlike most, he requires and breathes oxygen, eats and secretes feces like the best of us, and by that I mean people such as presidents and celebrities. However, upon medical examination of said waste you would find the difference between a Herbert Hoover deuce and of fools making some claim to fame; and that of our inadequate narrator’s eating habits and disparaging quality of subsistence. The reader could even determine Clark is malnourished by the coloring of said deuce, but we aren’t here to discuss the fecal matter of someone belonging to the lowest strata of society. Instead this is the tale that begins and ends with Martin Clark. A former prominent Congressman turned destitute bum; looked down upon by former colleagues, and even other beggars. He felt so lowly that it often crossed his mind that if the feral and unwanted meandering cats and dogs were able to talk they would snicker and berate him as well.
But let’s start from this tale’s exposition, the beginning of our narrator’s career: when he proudly and arrogantly paced the halls and chamber of Capitol Hill; slowly and indiscriminately making enemies with rival party members and those of his own party alike.
Clark was hated by members of the opposition because he took delight in thwarting any of their attempts to pass legislation in favor of destroying the tyranny of the majority while preventing the rule of the minority as well.
In time he grew greedy and hell bent on gaining higher office, making him wary of those members of his own party he saw as competition. With avarice and grandiose delusions in the depths of him, he set out to do whatever was necessary in order to gain the power he desired. Clark, through ill advice from his greed began dealing with the wrong type of people -murderous thugs, whose only loyalties were to money and themselves. Clark then proceeded to place a bounty on several of his own party’s leaders, removing any and all that stood in his way. In his dealings with these fearsome murderers he became part of something he had never intended. Never intending on getting caught, losing his job, the death of his wife and kids; no he never could have predicted such calamity, but life always deals in the unknown and unpredictable fashion.
As it turns out, the hit men he hired were being tapped and followed by the FBI, and all his happenings were being reported straight to the Attorney General. Who let it play out longer than he should have in effort to gather enough evidence on both men and arrest them. However life has its own plan and doesn’t concern itself with the will of men.
In what should have been a successful hit the hired guns realized that they were being followed, and perhaps their new client was to blame. Upon realizing this, they decided to make a statement and turn on their employer.
His family became the hit.
In what Martin thought was his moment of glory; life dealt him an agonizing hand. When he expected the hit to be happening in a place far away, it was happening in his own backyard so to speak. The men crept in like vermin in the dead of night. In a blinding flash and deafening bang two things occurred, the death of his beloved wife, and a rude awakening. In the face of his assailants he begged for his life and children to no avail, they were there to show him who he was dealing with.
After the fact Clark pieced together what had happened, and what had gone awry. He couldn’t say how but he knew that he too was being followed and tapped. In light of this information he did the only sensible thing and left; ran far away, away from the grasp of his assailants, and the justice of the law. He dove into the lowest depths of society, sharing the life of those he once denied escape from their poverty; forced to live on the scraps of the scraps of vagabonds.
It turns out dear reader, that, that vagabond is none other than I, your deplorable narrator -Martin Clark.
No longer able to live in these conditions, emotionally maimed by the loss of my family and status, I no longer can face the dawning of a new day or the twilight of another night; hunted by my thoughts and guilt.
With these, my last words filled with remorse and regret I beg forgiveness though expect none. I apologize from the bottom of my heart and depths of my soul.

With sincere regret,
Martin Clark.

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