the trickle down theory

I was on top of the world. I was floating on the sky that floated on the wind that floated on the earth. I was dressing in suits. Working short hours. Making cash. There were beautiful people all around me. They carried briefcase’s and papers stapled together. One was in a black skirt with heels. Another, a cerulean blue cardigan. There was a lobby where they were all using apple computers and inhaling the breath of fresh daffodils. They were happy and as I looked into a mirror, I saw I was one of them.

Then it happened.

I woke up? I got woken up? I was no longer there. I was now in a room. It was small and slightly unkempt. It had an odor of yesterdays bacon, and the feel of a life unfinished. There was a computer. But it wasn’t on a glass table with flowers. It was on a desk with speakers. Speakers and a ninety-nine cent flashlight that needed batteries. The papers in my hand weren’t stapled either. And they weren’t stories of Gods and Monsters, no. They were ingredients. The ingredients listed: pork, veal, beef, and garlic. And for some reason I could not remember the final dish. I didn’t care. The fan turned, and turned, as I clicked on a light and three stayed dim while one lit up. Familiar? Yeah. It was familiar, and that was the part I hated most. Cause for a second… I almost didn’t remember it.

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