I am delighted that the election is finally over. I take new meaning from the concept of Virginia as a battleground state. For me the expression came to mean that we citzens were embattled, under constant attack from pollsters and politicos both human and robotic. By the end of the onslaught I had developed a visceral hatred for one political party and its candidate, a hatred fed by the wave after wave of callers and door knockers who attempted to breach my defenses night and day to overwhelm me with the value of their candidate over the other.
Through it all, though, my family held fast, making carefully planned forays out to gather supplies, praying all the while that reinforcements would come, that a new day might dawn when we would see that the attackers had retreated and we could begin to move freely about our property and our neighborhoods, no longer needing to be on constant watch against guerrilla teams of pollsters and politicios ready to swoop down and steal our time and our privacy. Perhaps we might even be able to answer our phones and find that the caller is actually someone we care to talk to.
Well, that dreamt-for day just might be upon us. There is a silence across the land. The guns of November have gone silent. Perhaps the armistice will hold.
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