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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Farewell to Seafaring” Down in the Dirt, v153 (the January 2018 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the issue book At Midnight the Down in the Dirt Jan.-Apr. 2018 collection book		get the 418 page Jan.-Apr. 2018 Down in the Dirt issue anthology 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

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Allan Onik

    In the Grand Kremlin Palace, Putin sat on his golden throne. The throne was inlaid with multicolored diamond, and a lion paced the room. 30 Spetsnaz roamed the room, monitoring. The officer ran his thumb against his Kizlyar Voron-3 blade, crouching next to the dictator.
    “I suppose that bitch Hillary never saw it coming, 40 billion in malware and the Presidential ticket was basically punched.”
    “But of course, the Americans were too thick to see it coming.” The officer smirked.
    “When I met Trump in this very room, he sipped my Courvoisier jovially. We talked about which room I could sleep in at The White House when I visited The States.”
    “He’s as dumb as Orwell’s Boxer.”
    “But that’s smart for an American,” the dictator mused, “Perhaps me, Un, and Assad can win him over. Turn the dollar olive.”
    The officer stood in front of Putin. The ceiling chandeliers sent shadows across his face. “There’s just one thing you forgot about the Americans,” The officer looked the dictator in the eye.
    “And that is?”
    “Ever since Watergate, they’ve spent a fortune covering their tracks.” With the Kizlyar, the officer cut the tyrant’s throat ear to ear. “Lewinsky anyone?”

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