OLIVER'S ILLUMINATIONS
PART TWO
50.
The next morning as we floated over a mountain range hanging with glaciers, the horrors and near death that had almost swallowed me in this undulating current of a throat throttling dream vanished in the vision of the breathtaking woman in my arms. I was filled with the wonder of life, at the disbelief that I could be worthy of her affection. She reached up to my face, brushed her fingers through my hair and ran them down my face. She let loose a long sigh and pressed her head in my chest. She gazed into my eyes and mouthed a thank you. She turned her eyes to the panorama below. Suddenly her face darkened. I felt the magic of this refuge flutter away and prepared myself for another dive into monstrosity. She pointed to three spires of stone that rose up out of the mountains. “These peaks are called The Towers of Pain, a monument to the agony Chile suffered on our own September eleventh in 1973. For decades, eleven Chilean oligarchies and several international corporations, mostly American controlled and exploited my country’s resources and its people. In 1970 the people elected a socialist by the name of Salvadore Allende. His government began to buy land from the oligarchies and compensate the corporations for the nationalization of industry but the haves never give up power and wealth without a fight. The Doctor set the tone when he said, ‘I don’t see why we have to stand idly by and let a country go communist due to the irresponsibility of its own people.’ From that moment on, Allende’s time was limited.”
The next morning as we floated over a mountain range hanging with glaciers, the horrors and near death that had almost swallowed me in this undulating current of a throat throttling dream vanished in the vision of the breathtaking woman in my arms. I was filled with the wonder of life, at the disbelief that I could be worthy of her affection. She reached up to my face, brushed her fingers through my hair and ran them down my face. She let loose a long sigh and pressed her head in my chest. She gazed into my eyes and mouthed a thank you. She turned her eyes to the panorama below. Suddenly her face darkened. I felt the magic of this refuge flutter away and prepared myself for another dive into monstrosity. She pointed to three spires of stone that rose up out of the mountains. “These peaks are called The Towers of Pain, a monument to the agony Chile suffered on our own September eleventh in 1973. For decades, eleven Chilean oligarchies and several international corporations, mostly American controlled and exploited my country’s resources and its people. In 1970 the people elected a socialist by the name of Salvadore Allende. His government began to buy land from the oligarchies and compensate the corporations for the nationalization of industry but the haves never give up power and wealth without a fight. The Doctor set the tone when he said, ‘I don’t see why we have to stand idly by and let a country go communist due to the irresponsibility of its own people.’ From that moment on, Allende’s time was limited.”
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