the state of world affairs

Julian Assange woke up with a heavy heart. He flew to America even though he knew it was probably a bad idea. He noticed the man next to him on the plane was reading about 'cablegate'. He winced, then wondered how the man could be on the internet on an airplane, then said 'oh yeah it's the future', then put in headphones and fell asleep to the magically soporific accent of the southside BBC newsreader.

He slept for a long time, so much so that when he awoke the place behind his eyeballs hurt and he felt heavy and empty at once. Julian Assange thought about Hillary Clinton's face, about her body, about their 4:00 meeting, about her obvious displeasure with him. He wondered 'does Hillary Clinton like to be handcuffed with novelty handcuffs?'

Hilary Clinton is handcuffed to an expensive cherry oak desk and calling foreign embassies on her iPhone to warn them about the cables. They are leaking. Julian Assange fucks her softly from behind. He grins and scrolls through 251,287 government documents on his iPhone.

Hillary Clinton murmurs the words 'unprecedented internet leak' and 'I strongly urge you'. Tears line her sagging eyes. Julian Assange alternately whispers 'hush dear' and 'freedom of information'.

They come in waves.