In his campaigns that would give him the whole known world King Nimrodwannabe left once independent and prosperous communities burdened with annual tributes they now owed him. A few of these communities, the expendable ones which weren’t producing much in the first place, were tortured to terrorize their more productive neighboring villages into quick submission.
To maintain dominion over those villages which survived to surrender he brought their best and brightest back to his glorious Babilopolis where they would be educated so they could later serve as his overseers insuring his ongoing will was obeyed back home.
Though Nimrodwannabe was still young he was much too much in a hurry to waste valuable time getting cross with those who challenged him either at Babilopolis or abroad preferring speedy executions to lengthy quarrels. With the only real time he had any control over, since corpses are notoriously impotent, he took everything he could get his hands on even what was not given to him.
The demons reveling with him knew – once those tiny decades of Nimrodwannabe’s life were done – they would get it all not that it would do them much good either.
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Denise offers the prompt word “cross” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Stories.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 