“What nonsense is this?”, he screamed as he opened the envelope, “what kind of insult is this?, How preposterous?”.
Not that he would get an answer from anyone, for he was alone in his house, but that didn't matter, he needed that scream to share the anger with whoever or whatever can feel it.
As he held the content of the envelope in his hands, now shaking from anger, he remembered everything he's been hearing for the better part of the last decade, calls from his colleagues to step down, and hand over the reins of his many companies, maybe take a more coordinating role, rather than the exerting, all encompassing role he's presently assuming.
There were of course the calls from his friends willing him to take things slow as times have now changed for him, to adapt as they all have, but like a man telling a monkey to throw his only banana away, they all repeatedly failed, and woefully so.
A part of his mind, the realistic one, one with which he has recently entered a constant disagreement came visiting again, this time he listened to it, although passively, exactly like the way an American watches television - muted, until an interesting picture or topic is noticed.
It came again with one of the topics responsible for their prolonged arguments - the hardships he experience when he visits the toilet, his inability to recollect the things that used to be part of him, constant tiredness, it asked him if he doesn't think they are all connected to his colleagues and friends’ admonitions and of course to the content of the envelope, as usual, he didn't bother replying the question before shutting the voice off.
He had to shut it off as it was beginning to make sense, but, no, it can possibly be right, for its being right will be bad news for him, so more out of hope than conviction, he settled for the earlier reason, that had to be the right reason, and now he'll make that presumptuous old thing to admit it.
“Hello”
“Hello, good evening Sir”
“Please speak for yourself, you just effectively ruined mine. And how dare you? How could…”
Thrown off balance by the unexpected attack, the man on the end of the line who happened to be newly introduced to him by a friend, had to say something in his defense.
“I'm afraid I'm not familiar with what you're talking about Sir” stressing the last word just enough to suggest that it may be the last time he'll address him with the word. Whatever he planned to achieve with that, however, evidently failed.
“How could you? Who gave you the permission to edit my picture and present me 10 years older than I actually am, did Charles put you up to this?”
“Oh, I see what this is about. You see a picture of yourself, and you're annoyed at your own reality, I'm simply a photographer that took a picture of you and printed just same. But I can see you're shocked at what you've become, why that is I'm not too sure, you've probably expected to still be 60, but alas! you're 80 now and you have to accept the changes. But then I understand that as a man that has built an empire around outsmarting everyone and everything, you must have expected to do the same with age.”
“While I understand the reason for your anger, I honestly believe you picked the wrong recipient, and strictly in the spirit of getting the explanation you so desperately want, I suggest you end this call and place a call to nature, for it and not I did this to you."
IMG SOURCE: Label for reuse from google)
Feels good to be back. I have been busy lately with other things but am back. Stay tuned.
