He was on the political gurney. Mortally wounded by his failed presidential campaign, his career’s breathing had stopped. Monied interests tried in vain to revive him. From within the void, he could hear voices of party leaders calling him to come back. Alas, nothingness. But then, the fluttering of angel wings. (More accurately, guys in leather chaps and handmade faux wings designed to block Westboro types from disrupting their vigils and memorial services in the wake of the Pulse nightclub shooting.) On the wings of those gay angels he hates, Marco Rubio came back to political life, and has mustered the strength to run for the Senate seat he also hates, all for Pulse. —Kate Bradshaw
This article appears in Best of The Bay 2016.
