"Black walnut wood. Excellent facade!" congratulated the salesman.
I held a press conference in front of my house announcing the new facade and the neighbors applauded wildly.
But even with the new facade, demons of speculation - killed only by communication - torture me as they know the truth of my shanty shack.
Later, I tried to be a hero, telling of the gold vein I found in the ground we all could share. But since no one is allowed in my shack to see, I am unbelieved.
What's the point?
I held a press conference in front of my house announcing the new facade and the neighbors applauded wildly.
But even with the new facade, demons of speculation - killed only by communication - torture me as they know the truth of my shanty shack.
Later, I tried to be a hero, telling of the gold vein I found in the ground we all could share. But since no one is allowed in my shack to see, I am unbelieved.
What's the point?
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