adroitaesop
He had cheated. Or at least he felt as if he had cheated. The sword was heavy in his hands, still covered with the blood of his brother. The duel was meant to be fair, even, a perfect match. But even so, he had dominated, winning swiftly. The crowd was aghast with amazement upon seeing him cleave off his own brothers head. So swift, so terrible.
He placed his ballot in the box and nervously shuffled out the door. Had he voted for the right candidate? Had he really? Was this the best policy, the best way? You have to be careful when you vote for someone who promotes nuclear war.