I, The Quitter

The roar of the custom tour bus shook the parking lot. Conservatives staggered to the left. Sarah’s eyes were a symphony of incredulity, an unbelieving witness to truth and reality. Quickly, she checked the beautiful swelling of her personal portfolio account where the money went in.

“How could you?” The Tea Party gasped.

Sarah had only a moment before talking to a corpse of a Presidential campaign, but she got it in.

“It was easy,” Sarah said.