It’s All Just Politics

23 min readSep 29, 2022

A political junkie, a campaign manager, a hopeless romantic all wrapped up in one. Can Kendra keep them all separated long enough to win this election and have her dreams come true or will it all be just politics?

Written by Rebecca Milton
Published by

“I’ll always see you walking away,” I said to him.

When I was a young girl, my father was the world to me. His strength, not just physical, but a moral strength, an intellectual strength, was apparent in everything he did or said. He instilled in me a sense that there was one truth in the world that had to be fought for or it would vanish from the earth forever.

“You know there is right and wrong,” he said to me one day as we strolled the beach, the sun sitting like a circus clown on the tight rope of the horizon, “they are little things, these rights, these wrongs, but in this life, there is one truth. A larger truth and that, that is the thing to fight for.”

He stopped and looked down at me. He was checking to see if I understood. I didn’t. Not fully. How could I, I was a child. But, my father never spoke to me as if I was a child. He spoke to me as an equal. He did this because he believed I was. He believed we all were. All people. His child had as much to teach him as he had to teach her. We were equals. This is how he spoke to me that day. As the sky emptied of color and the air began to get cooler I stopped walking.

My father looked down at me again, “What, little one,” he asked, “what is the trouble?”

“I don’t understand,” I told him, quietly, afraid he would be disappointed, angry with me, “I don’t understand the true right.”

Because he was my father, because he was the strongest man in the world, he lifted me up, kissed me, his beard tickling my skin and carried me home. He didn’t say anything more about it. That night, when I had washed up, brushed my teeth and crawled into bed waiting for him to come in and kiss me good night, I pondered this one truth. When he came in that night, sat at the edge of my bed he did his usual bed time ritual with me.

“Did you wash your face?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

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