Photo Prompt by Sandy Morrison
excessive desire and pursuit of wealth, power, and status*
Jonathan stared down from his office on the thirty-fifth floor. The last rays of sunlight danced on the glass of nearby buildings creating a kaleidoscope of images. Below people hustled down the sidewalks like ants scurrying for cover; rushing off to catch trains and cabs to the bar, the gym, or home to family. They would never know how many lives had been changed today.
By now, operations in twelve facilities in four states were shut down. Employees sent home with no warning, no paycheck, no pension – collateral damage in a down economy. Locks were changed and inventories tallied. Anything of value was to be auctioned, the funds used to payoff those who’d been told their investments were guaranteed. But times were tough – the stock market, the economy, the administration, anything to remove the blame from Jonathan’s Armani clad shoulders.
The door opened and his secretary said, “It’s time.”
“Thank you, Cynthia.”
After one last look at his corner office view, he turned, gathered his briefcase and Blackberry, and followed Cynthia to the elevator, passing empty desks and barren halls. Most of the files had been shredded and the hard drives wiped, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell of what once had been.
Two hours later he sipped his Scotch and confirmed the amount of the wire transfer to his private account. He eased back into the leather seat of his Gulfstream, on his way to the islands, with Cynthia’s mouth hard at work in his lap.