When the group of four appeared, the wraiths swarmed them like a tidal wave.
They surrounded Washington, letting out mournful wails.
"Founding Father… you told us that labor is sacred."
A wraith that had lost half its shoulder knelt before Washington.
"We shed sweat and blood. We followed all the rules."
"But the factories moved away, the pensions vanished, and our cities became laughingstocks on television."
"Our homes were taken by the banks, and our children are doing drugs on the streets."
"Where is our happiness? The happiness you wrote about on that piece of paper, where is it?"
A wraith stretched out a withered hand. "You lied to us!"
Washington raised his cherry wood axe but found he could not bring it down.
He could split the armor of demons and sever the chains of capital.
But how could he cleave through decades of accumulated despair?
The battle-axe was useless against these wraiths.
He felt a profound sense of powerlessness.
