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Racism stories: I would like one day

Stories and News No. 818

One day.
One day is enough for me.
A day when we will all be disabled.
No, not diversely abled, which is a tolerated euphemism to evoke yet another human wonder.
Disabled, that is what I mean.
Lack of normally wasted skills.
Debased as undervalued.
All blind, then.
Although for a single day, all unable to accuse alleged guilty skin colors.
All unable to fear the supposed scandalous clothes.
And no one will be able to take advantage of vulnerable forms to cover own cowardice.
All unreachable by words written strictly turning back to the heart. Far from delusional sentences erased for twenty-four hours from the sadistic machine called news, which does not miss the occasion to ride on helpless grounds.
All deaf, so.
And even for a single day, all indifferent to the timely screams of the professional parasite, always ready to throw himself on the monster that he designed.
Okay, no heavenly music and natural melodies.
Silence, absolute absence of sound.
Empty bracket between two noises.
In other words, an extraordinary gift.
For a day.
All paralyzed, then.
Perfectly still.
Perfect, until proven otherwise. Inevitable demonstration that will return on time for each one of us at the end of the dream.
But for one day, no one will abuse someone.
And no one will reject someone else.
No one will step aside if the right finger will point.
And no one will even put someone else.
In his place.
No one will start new wars.
And all we will have to wait.
To start fighting.
Or stop doing it.
Once and for all.
One day, just one day, I wonder nothing more.
And then we will wake up.
Seeing, hearing, walking.
And maybe flying.
As we all should have done.
From the beginning…

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