THE wife nearly came bouncing into my study, where I pretended to write an article while actually looking longingly at some online shopping clothes, “There’s some government officials to see you!” she said.
“Oh no!” I said, “Have they come to arrest me?” “They’re not cops,” she said, “I think they’re going to give you some award!” “Award! Me!” I said, “Awards are only given to people with political contacts!”
I wandered into my sitting room, and watched as two obviously government officials rose and extended their hands in my direction, “We are honoured to have you on board sir!”
“On board!” I said, “I’m quite happy where I am!” “You have been chosen unanimously as the country’s new historian!” “Whoa! Whoa!” I said, “I am not a historian, I’m a storyteller! I write fiction!”
“Yes sir, all of us in the government have read your stories sir, and felt you were best suited for the job of rewriting our history!” said the shorter of the two officials, as he pulled out a sheet of papers and gave it to me.
“What is this?” I asked. “Just an agreement saying you accept the post!” “You are very kind gentlemen, but I have to refuse!” “You will be offered a post equivalent to a ministerial one. You can have a red beacon for your car!”
“Lovely!” exclaimed the wife. “Would I be able to take it to the mall and kitty parties?” “Of course madam!” “We liked your article yesterday about our countryman already being on the moon, and welcoming Neil Armstrong there!” “But that was just a work from my imagination!” I cried.
“We would like our history books to carry that story!” said the taller man, “All you have to do is to give it a date, just before the Americans landed!” “A car with a red beacon!” sighed the wife.
“Our children also need some fighting, some bloodshed and heroes,” said the shorter man, “So let us have the freedom struggle a little bloodied, with some of our present ministers being soldiers, even officers in the liberation army! You can even have a scene of these officers driving the British out of the country, single-handed with their swords!”
“I can’t do that!” I said desperately, “It is absolutely fictitious!” “That is why we have hired you!” said both the men as one pulled out his pen and offered it to me. “A car with a red beacon!” sighed the wife as I reluctantly took the pen and signed the agreement.
“This sir, is your first assignment!” said the tall man giving me some notes “What is it?” I asked wearily. “That our country won the first Olympics!” smiled the shorter man. And on All Fools Day I reluctantly took the notes, put off the online shopping site and started creating history..!”
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