The Tale of a Secretary, Interlude: Mr. Reed's Everyday Life
Prerequisites:
Committee report
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter I: Scenery of Salvation
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter II: Introduction to a Diligent Task
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter III: The Smiling Man
These anachronisms... I'm not sure how to wrap my mind around them. I mean, we have the Internets, yet no functional electrical street lights. One could almost believe that we're living in the Dark Ages, or at least some steampunk alternative reality resembling that period in history. It just doesn't make any sense. It oughtn't be this inconsistent.
Most of John Paul Reed's time was engulfed by issues like these. The great philosophical questions of the ages, the questions that any sound man ought to ask himself at least once during the discourse of his frail stay in The City.
As should be obvious to the reader, this man's unfathomable intellect eats these questions for breakfast. At this point in time however, his mind was occupied with far more worldly matters.
Damn this nastily clogged sink! Damn it to hell! I knew I should've hired a real professional instead of that old drunkard Mr. Penrose.
All extraordinary men have rather mundane moments of weakness. For all intents and purposes, this was one of them. From the immense depths of his philanthropic mind, he had chosen to give that man a fifth chance. In retrospect, it all appeared silly.
You can only do so much for someone who chooses to live by ignorance and denial.
Mr. Reed looked dejectedly at the sink and sighed. This problem did not seem to have an obvious solution. The mind, as you know, has a tendency to roam free when not explicitly and forcefully directed. His mind chose to stop at Amanda.
She has potential, she sure has. However, it's all up to her now. There are worldly decisions that need to be made continuously in order to cope with looking at reality through our piercing lenses.
Silence prevailed. The sink mocked him by staring back blindly. John appreciated the fact that it's quite peculiar how an inanimate object like a kitchen sink can seem to be so aggressive. As a man of thought and action in harmony, action came with thought antecedent.
Better call a plumber.
Committee report
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter I: Scenery of Salvation
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter II: Introduction to a Diligent Task
The Tale of a Secretary, Chapter III: The Smiling Man
These anachronisms... I'm not sure how to wrap my mind around them. I mean, we have the Internets, yet no functional electrical street lights. One could almost believe that we're living in the Dark Ages, or at least some steampunk alternative reality resembling that period in history. It just doesn't make any sense. It oughtn't be this inconsistent.
Most of John Paul Reed's time was engulfed by issues like these. The great philosophical questions of the ages, the questions that any sound man ought to ask himself at least once during the discourse of his frail stay in The City.
As should be obvious to the reader, this man's unfathomable intellect eats these questions for breakfast. At this point in time however, his mind was occupied with far more worldly matters.
Damn this nastily clogged sink! Damn it to hell! I knew I should've hired a real professional instead of that old drunkard Mr. Penrose.
All extraordinary men have rather mundane moments of weakness. For all intents and purposes, this was one of them. From the immense depths of his philanthropic mind, he had chosen to give that man a fifth chance. In retrospect, it all appeared silly.
You can only do so much for someone who chooses to live by ignorance and denial.
Mr. Reed looked dejectedly at the sink and sighed. This problem did not seem to have an obvious solution. The mind, as you know, has a tendency to roam free when not explicitly and forcefully directed. His mind chose to stop at Amanda.
She has potential, she sure has. However, it's all up to her now. There are worldly decisions that need to be made continuously in order to cope with looking at reality through our piercing lenses.
Silence prevailed. The sink mocked him by staring back blindly. John appreciated the fact that it's quite peculiar how an inanimate object like a kitchen sink can seem to be so aggressive. As a man of thought and action in harmony, action came with thought antecedent.
Better call a plumber.
posted by J.R. Libel at 01:26
1 Comments:
Such flattery! I am unaccustomed to it, but still... It is true to every last detail.
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