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   Chapter 22 No.22

Prodigal Sun By Christina Engela Characters: 5511

Updated: 2018-07-09 19:01


In fact, the only government that had ever apologized for these atrocities was the post-war German government in the early 21st century, who in fact, really had nothing to apologize for in the first place. The people who apologized were never part of the regime that perpetrated these heinous crimes against humanity, nor were they even born at the time. Not one war criminal tried at Nuremburg in the late 1940's or after was ever convicted or even charged specifically with crimes relating to the persecution or murder of a single gay or transgender person. It was like some people – or rather, their deaths or their suffering just never mattered.

The suffering of a generation – never given justice, never apologized to, nor shown any compassion, regret, respect or attempt at recompense or a chance to reclaim their dignity or equal value as human beings. Never given an opportunity to move on, to leave behind the fear that it may happen again one day, to another generation.

There were other examples of course – the various LGBT purges and massacres of various countries, under governments both legitimate and illegitimate, presidents, monarchs and dictators through the ages. In Brazil, Mexico, Argentina, Uganda, Rwanda, Iran, Iraq, Kenya, the USA and others leading up to the Big Nuke in the early 21st century. Even less recompense or recognition was made for them.

She was horrified. She was part of the legacy of a silent minority in one of the most bitter, tragic periods in human history. Forgotten victims. A mass of human beings with souls and hearts and feelings who had loved, desired and sought happiness – and to live – had

ic representation of a male torso covered in glitter. It was lit from within, had a pink feather boa draped around its neck – and someone had put bright red lipstick on its plastic lips, but the look on its face indicated that it didn't seem to mind. A lumo-green cowboy hat with a holographic blue band topped the whole thing off, reflecting the laser beams and multi-colored spotlights as they slowly rotated to the tempo of the music that was playing in the background.

It being mid-morning on a Friday, the place was virtually empty, and the volume was down low, the way Fred liked it. Again, it being a Friday, it was going to get busier later. A whole lot busier. And more fun too.

'The Disk' as its regulars called it, served light meals during the day and a couple of girls were sitting at one of the tables across from the bar, chatting quietly eating burgers and fries. On the wall above them, hung a vintage poster advertising a place back on Earth called "Stonewall Inn". Somewhere at the back, beyond the vacant dance floor, a couple of dudes were playing pool and having a beer.

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