The Storm

The palace was burning.

Seizing the moment, (like vultures fighting over a lukewarm carcass,) men in three-piece suits offered salvation to anyone within earshot.

"Grieve no more! We can move past all the shock, denial, anger and depression-- and move on, if you will just follow me!"

A nice sales pitch, but who gave them the authority in the first place? The fire brigade toiled tirelessly in the background; Was now really the time to choose a successor and claw at the peoples' tithes?

It didn't sit right, so the crowds moved past the shock, the denial... and their anger came to a boil.

The storm before the calm.