That night was spectacular! The Revolutionary Guard crashed the Palace Masquerade Ball at midnight and arrested all the Royals. We ran from room to room. Such opulence, we never even dreamed of! What we couldn’t carry away, we destroyed. I kept two masks as a souvenir of the night we stormed to power.
Our leader, Vladimir, was magnificent. He told us that we were all free, and how everyone was equal. He said that as one of his trusted lieutenants, I could personally put the nooses around every Royal neck. After their ‘fair’ trial of course.
We drank wine from the Palace cellars and chanted his name until dawn.
But how quickly Vladimir changed! He began having private meetings with the Royals, and started talking about “Power sharing” and “necessary compromises”. I was no longer in his inner circle and couldn’t even get to see him.
Of course, I still had influence with high ranking Party members. We had our own private meetings and we all agreed…
Vladimir’s fatal accident was a tragedy for the Revolution, but we will move forward.
I will say more later. But for now, I have a trial to preside over.
This is my contribution for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Alastair Forbes. The idea is to write a story of around 100-200 words based on the photo. Click the link for more details. You can view the other stories by clicking here.