Spray Tan
Tales For Posterity
This is the seventh and — for now — final tale about how history could turn out. Not should, but could. Pair with Dictator by The Clash and brace yourself.
There once was a president who died of spray tanning. Out of boredom he tanned so often the orange chemicals were absorbed through his skin in a deadly concentration. That was years after he had made himself dictator-for-life and let his supporters commit genocide on anyone they did not like. By then the country had been decimated to just a small, decaying peninsula in the South East. The other 49 states had seceded and formed their own prospering union. He spent his days in his underwear watching reruns of The A-Team and eating junk food.
Regitze Ladekarl has re-emerged as a raconteur after a long, successful career in finance. She crafts universal tales from everyday lives with an honest, sharp and witty pen. Besides working on a forthcoming novel, she flexes her voice with personal essays, flash fiction, and method writing here on Medium.
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