Samuel E. Wright lowered his bulky form into his bulky chair which trembled beneath his weight. His day had thoroughly exhausted him, as every day for the past few years had, but he was equally pleased with it.
His day had begun early with a thorough examination from his specialist. This was now a weekly event. Following the doctor's confirmation that he still had a few more years left in him, he was driven by his chauffeur to his Board of Directors meeting in connection with his aircraft company. Following lunch with the leading lady of his new movie as his companion, Samuel was driven to his office where the day ended in the checking of the expense and profit accounts of his chain of motels.
Now the day for Samuel had-ended. He pulled out a cigar and pushed a button on the remote control panel connected to the television.
The picture puckered onto the screen and it was that of a far-off under-developed land It showed a small boy about the age of his own child. He had a sharply defined face which pucked up in irritation as flies settled on his nose and forehead. His stomach was swollen with the marks of malnutrition. The programme then turned to the dirty, broken down hovel in which this small boy and his family were forced to maintain their day to day existence.
Samuel abruptly turned the set off and called for the maid to bring him his copy of the Financial Times.
Cheryl Caldwell 52