General Consensus

General Consensus is deemed by all colleagues at Central Command to be the serious sort, brash not bullheaded, entertainer of educated dissent, contemptuous of corruption, constant in loyalty, worth each star point adorning that epaulette; General’s earliest confidantes, conversely, consider Consensus devoid of decency, earning infamy for sowing any and all gossip seeds capable of propping General higher; General’s first paramour maintains that fear of true tenderness fomented this lack of decency; General’s exes, none of whom ever met one another, nevertheless insist a precise definition of Consensus must adopt terms such as two-timing lecher, or miserly, arrogant bastard; General’s poker gang would echo the exes’ arrogance point, adding to it a suspicious and superstitious player, jealous of all laughter but the General’s own; the prevailing view of first employer Mr. Mooney indicted General as an indolent, slow cyclist, an exasperatingly deficient deliverer of dry goods; go to the grandchildren for a report of General and you will see Consensus honored as a goofy imp, armed always with gum to give away, excellent skills for naptime snuggling and reading Seuss; on General’s sweat-scored deathbed three days back came not Storytime with the grandkids, exactly, but a wash of memory, a perpetual yet uncleansing drizzle of every face Consensus ever came in contact with, either tolerating, ignoring, defying, or inspired by General, a marching litany, all of whom had wanted to bed or fight or curry the favor of Consensus, all approaching today’s gleaming goodbye ceremony out of obligation only, or politic caution, eager to aid General’s tributes, or dismantling; and at ceremony’s conclusion, each pallbearer perceived Consensus, during their hoisting, only as heavy, oh so very heavy indeed.