A story ...

In his cell, Donald Trump was sitting and gazing at the stark white walls. He hadn't seen the outside world or experienced the sun's warmth on his skin in a very long time. As President of the United States, he had previously held the title of most powerful man on earth. He was now, however, simply another prisoner serving a sentence.

It had all started with the election. Trump had been convinced that he had won, that the votes had been rigged against him. He had ranted and raved, refusing to accept the results. And when the mob of his supporters stormed the Capitol on that fateful day, he had egged them on, telling them to "fight like hell" and "never give up."

Five individuals had died in the incident, which had been disastrous, leaving the country in disbelief. After a brief trial, Trump was found guilty and given a ten-year prison sentence for his involvement in the riot for which he had been impeached.

Trump had initially been hesitant to accept it. He had contested the ruling tenaciously and with the best attorneys money could buy. But he had ultimately fallen short. So, there he was, confined to this tiny cage, with nothing to do but reflect on the errors he had committed.

Trump started to understand the full scale of his fall from grace as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. He had changed from having everything he could possibly want, including living in the lap of luxury, to being a prisoner, encircled by barbed wire and armed guards.

But despite his difficulties accepting his new reality, Trump remained persistent. In order to clear his name and take back his position at the top, he promised himself that one day he would find a way out.

And so he waited, biding his time, hoping for a miracle.

The end.