7
My double bed was a sea and I was its derelict.
I read an article by a steelmaker that tish-pished those who are
concerned over the possible exhaustion of America's iron ore. Run
out in twenty years? this tycoon asked. Ridiculous! There is iron
enough for a century and no corporation is anxious at all, where such
extensive futures can be seen.
I gave this oaf a hundred years to come to his senses in the third
generation.
It was an insufficient period. The iron ran out and he still
foraged--a ghost rummaging in the raped premises of his
great-great-grandchildren.
Go rue the deserts man's already made!
Paul didn't come.