Prosperity at LHS

Without exception, every student at Lexington High School wants to be prosperous. But what really constitutes “prosperity”? First and foremost, Lexington High School is a school, so acquiring knowledge and skills shall be the most important measure of prosperity. Additionally, success in social relations, such as with parents, friends, and teachers is also crucial, since we all have to interact with others. Last but not least, is having a good state of mind, which includes being calm and simply being happy. These three factors: academic, social, and mental, are the foundations that contribute to a student’s prosperity.

While it is relatively easy to define the meaning of “prosperity” at LHS, it is more difficult to actually realize it. It would be naïve to tell someone to simply “be prosperous” and expect it to happen. It is precisely because that achieving “prosperity” is easier said than done, that Benjamin Franklin’s wisdom is so useful. In his perennial essay or proverbs, “The Way to Wealth”, he lists numerous similes and metaphors, underneath which lie a wealth of practical advice applicable to prosperity at LHS:

“Diligence is the mother of good luck”, writes Benjamin Franklin. This is the most basic advice to follow for achieving prosperity. It means that you must work persistently to achieve success. With hard work, success (the so-called “luck”) comes naturally. On the other hand simply wishing for prosperity will give you none, hence Franklin’s phrase “he that lives upon hope will die fasting”. It is true that some luck could come from pure chance, like winning the lottery, but those chances are few and far between, and in fact are rigged to work against you. Similarly, you should not plan on doing well on tests without studying and doing the homework. It might work a few times, and your teacher might not even check, but it will come back to bite you, no matter how smart you believe you are. To achieve true prosperity, you must not be afraid of going forward, and be confident that diligence will make you reach your goals. In school, you will face plenty of hard tasks, especially long term projects. Don’t be intimidated by a hard task. Break it down into easier parts, because in the end, Franklin writes, “by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable”.

 “A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two different things”, writes Benjamin Franklin. While it is impossible to achieve prosperity without hard work, too much hard work can be even worse. That is why we all need time for a break in our lives. You should work hard and play hard. However, not all “play” time is created equal. As Franklin says, “leisure is time for doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never.” You might think that you are enjoying yourself when you loop TV shows over and over, or when you constantly check for updates on Facebook, but in the end it will make you feel bad, since you know that you’ve just wasted time. And “lost time”, Franklin says, “is never found again”. Most of the time of modern high school students is wasted from using modern technology, something Franklin would’ve never imagined, but rest assured, he still offers great advice for how to deal with it: “A fat kitchen makes a lean will”. Your willpower is limited, so you can decrease the distractions/ temptations of technology by limiting their influence. For example, unless required, don’t do homework with a web browser open. Do your homework with the computer off, or in a room where there is no computer. Now that we’ve talked about how not to waste time being lazy, how do you find good “leisure” activities? Unfortunately, the answer is not so simple. People have different hobbies. For some, it can be sports. For some, it may be music. Whatever it is, as long as what you’re doing makes a clear positive impact on you or the world, then keep doing it.

“A ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees”, writes Benjamin Franklin. This means that you are always better off being a self-standing person who lives by your own values rather than somebody who bends to and depends on the influence of others. Whether it is among your peers in LHS now or later on in life, you should always remember that only you know yourself the best, and only you always have your best interest at heart. You should not give in the peer pressure if you don’t want to. You should not feel the need to be constantly approved by others. If others judge you because of that, it’s their problem.

“Pride is as loud a beggar as want, and a great deal more saucy”, writes Benjamin Franklin. You should confide in yourself, but you should not be proud to the point of arrogance. Remember that while you carry on your business as you want, others should be doing the same thing too. In the end, everyone is equal, and you should treat them as such by respecting their opinions. “And ‘tis truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to well in order to equal the ox”, he also writes. This means that you shouldn’t brag, pretending to be better than you are. You will be like a “beggar” begging for attention, and others will surely see through your insecurity. If everyone is humble and honest, we can have a harmonious society where everyone gets along in a place as diverse as LHS.

By working hard but playing hard, being confident but being humble, students at LHS can prosper academically, socially, and mentally. But remember, reading all of this is not nearly enough. You have to actually follow the advice, which is much easier said than done. After all, Franklin writes, “we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct”.

Tis hard for an empty bag to stand upright

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Note: This is a work of Historical Fiction – the following story’s fictional events are based upon real occurrences in history.

“Tis hard for an empty bag to stand upright”

-Benjamin Franklin

   

January 1931:

Mr. Journal,

The terrible day has come.

Today William, the foreclosure agent from the bank, arrived at the house to finalize some documents. Every piece of furniture in the house is covered in plastic sheets. To think they would be talking everything I owned, from my beloved rocking chair, to the house itself, is quite the overwhelming thought. I can barely believe it as I write to you (Please excuse me if the paper sheet is slightly wrinkled, a few tears managed to escape). Ruth, God bless her soul, is finding it especially difficult to comprehend. One doctor we saw said she had some disease by the name of “depression”.


January 1931:

Mr. Journal,

God has been especially cruel to me.

In the morning, I walked into master bedroom to wake Ruth, but I was too late.

Rest In Peace, my lovely wife.



August 1931:

Mr. Journal,

We have a great deal of catching up to do. It has been quite the while since we last talked, and circumstances have greatly changed.

After Ruth’s departure, I struggled to find meaning in my life. You may not agree with me, but I find the two things most important to modern man are money and family. Both these things have been ruthlessly taken from me. To start my house was taken, along with everything I owned. Then, on a more painful note, came my wife. Poor Ruth.

Why would God ever do such terrible things? It is a question I have struggled with over the past few months, and one that you may help me answer.   

August 1931:

Mr. Journal,

I would like to apologize. I forgot to explain many things in the last entry. Talking about Ruth got me very upset….

You should know that I am in New York City now. I reasoned that staying in the suburbs was not only unaffordable, but impractical considering the greater amount of employment opportunities in the city. So in that vein of thought, I hopped on a couple of baggage trains and found myself in the City.

Unfortunately New York City was not the solution. Work is even harder to come by here, and thousands of homeless, jobless people (like me) wander the streets as a result.

Life is terribly empty right now, and I have come to the conclusion that God has abandoned me, just like everything else.


September 1931:

Mr. Journal,

My savior has finally come!

One morning, I noticed a young Negro man in a newsboy cap and overalls staring at me from a distance. For the rest of the day the young Negro continued to follow me. Eventually I mustered the courage to approach him, and ask him why he was following me. You will be most surprised to hear that he was offering me a job, and he was simply following me to observe if I was a worthy candidate.

A job! After months of living homeless, it is a relief to hear his words. It is the chance to rebuild that I have dreamt of many a night. The young man didn’t explain the details of the job to me straight away, but whatever it is you may be assured that I will seize the opportunity.

September 1931:


Mr. Journal,

Today I met up with the Negro man I told you about last time. He introduced himself to me as Booker, and he explained the job. It is not exactly what I had imagined, but it is a job nonetheless...

To put it simply, he has offered me a position as his partner in crime. What do I mean, you might ask? Well read carefully, I will explain in detail. Booker works as an alcohol transporter for some local gang, widely known as the Five Point Gang (it's one of those Mafia type gangs that you may have heard about in the newspapers). Alcohol is still an illegal commodity, and transporting it is a very risky business. This is why he has asked for my assistance. From what he has described, it is a fairly straightforward process: we go to the local gang warehouse (disguised as a convenience store), get a shipment of alcohol, and deliver it to various speakeasy bars across the city. After the deal is complete, we bring the cash back to the gang, who then deal out our fair share of earnings.

Earlier in my life I would have never dreamt of resorting to criminal measures, but these desperate times do call for desperate measures. Hopefully you'll understand.


December 1931:

Mr. Journal,

Work is going extremely well! Booker and I have been earning great profits as transporters. I’ve even managed to rent myself a room in a crowded apartment!

January 1932:

Mr. Journal,

Booker and I visited Ruth’s grave today. It has been one year now.

Work is still going good.


March 1932:

Mr. Journal,

Unexpected turn of events. Booker is dead. Word on the street is that he was killed for allegedly “keeping money from the gang”. They’re coming for me next. I have a grave feeling that I will not  be writing to you again. Do not grieve for me, I have nothing left in life. When I thought I could rebuild, I am knocked back down once more, it is useless to fight my inevitable end.

With that I bid you farewell,

Walter.

“Pride that dines on vanity sups on contempt”

“The Way to Wealth”: A Narrative  

 “Pride that dines on vanity sups on contempt”

            “Come on in, Phyllis”, beckoned the boss with an authoritative hand gesture and a deafening glare staring into his computer monitor rather than his employee. The boss was situated in a posh leather swivel chair behind his immense, yet desolate desk. There were no papers or work materials to be found, just the occasional chocolate the boss so intently enjoyed indulging on. Yet somehow he was able to keep up the façade that he was always busy.

            Phyllis, intimidated because he rarely got his boss’ attention, meekly stepped into the office in a pathetic scuttle. He eyed his boss briefly, and realized that his presence was barely being acknowledged. Reluctantly, Phyllis positioned himself onto the crude chair that was in front of his boss’ desk, feeling pain on his behind due to the poorly designed bolts on top.

            “I appreciate that you are willing to listen, sir” began Phyllis, as his boss’ eyes continued to stare blankly at the monitor screen that was apparently quite important.

            “Yeah, yeah”, retorted the boss, “Just get on with it.”

            “Sorry it’ll just be a moment, sir”, desperately implored Phyllis. “It’s just that a lot of employees here, myself included, wanted to file a slight complaint… I mean suggestion, about the work conditions of this company. You see, a lot of individuals here, myself included, have felt like the hours are too extensive and that the health-care benefits are lacking.”

            “Excuse me…” said the boss with disdain. “Are you trying to tell me you have a problem with this company’s exploitation of its employees?”

            “No, no, of course not…” whimpered the intimidated Phyllis.

            “Because you signed up for this job knowing that you would be exploited, used for profit, and deemed worthless when you full potential isn’t enough” roared the boss. “And if you have a problem with that, you can take your Marxist revolution out of this company! This is purely business. I earned this position of power, and can do what I please with it!”

            Phyllis, feeling as if his job was in jeopardy, quickly apologized to his benign employer and scrambled out of the office. Panting with exasperation from outside the door, he thought back to he’s boss’ words. Was change ever going to be possible, or would the fate of every worker continue to be exploited by someone higher up in the social hierarchy? No, this is America, he realized. Equity in the workplace was never an American ideal.

            With his head hanging low, Phyllis walked back to his tight cubicle with barely enough leg space and attempted to continue the same mundane task he was subject to under the company. He turnedd on his 1980’s desktop that took up half the space of his desk. But Phyllis realized he could not take this treatment any longer; he was not a usable commodity for his boss to exploit, and he did not deserve these awful working conditions simply because he was of a lower socio-economic status. Phyllis came to learn that wealth did not correlate with value as individual, and that he was not inferior to his boss simply because of his working class status.

            Defiantly, Phyllis stood up from his desk clutching his fists.

            “My fellow co-workers”, he declared, and glanced from side to side as he noticed he was getting the attention of the employees. “We don’t need to feel subjugated by our current fate. The workers can have fair conditions, but only if we express our voice and demand our rights. I’ve seen too many employees attempt to change our boss’ mind but they were too intimidated and walked out of his office with nothing. We don’t have to give up and accept the status quo; there can be change in numbers!”

            “That would never work”, voiced a skeptical employee. “He’s just too powerful and has no incentive to help those below him.”

            “But you are wrong”, replied Phyllis. “A fool would remain silent in this situation, and accept misery. In numbers our protest will have power…”

            Phyllis turned around when he noticed that people were looking at the opposite direction of him. In the corner he saw his boss, who momentarily came out of his office and eyed him with a menacing glare.

            “You’re fired”, he stated frankly. “If anyone else is feeling particularly heroic, you can join him.”

There was an awkward moment of silence, as the eyes of employees darted back and forth, in anticipation to see who would react first. But not a word was said, just nervous glances that resulted in nothing. Phyllis promptly put his head down in shame as he left the building. Reform would not come today.

But as Phyllis walked out the door he noticed that two others followed. Shortly after that, 5 others walked out. Finally, a crowd of workers formed outside the building.

“Did you guys get fired” Phyllis asked with genuine surprise.

“No,” replied one of the employees with a smirk. “We all quit.”

“I’m glad you guys took my message to heart, but we’re all unemployed now,” said Phyllis. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

            But as he said this, more and more people left the building.

            “The only one who will become unemployed today is the boss” said one of the workers defiantly. “Without workers, his company is nonexistent. We want you to oversee the company instead as our new CEO.”

                        Eventually without any employees the company went bankrupt, and the boss reluctantly resigned as the prospects of the company was hopeless in its current state. For the first time in the company’s history, it was the boss who held his head low as he walked past his former employees and walked out the door. Liberated from their oppressor, the employees went back to the company and once again offered Phyllis the role of as their CEO.  The shocked Phyllis was hesitant but took the job. He learned from his boss’ mistakes and never let his position of power overcome his humble character. Office conditions became bearable: the cubicles were expanded, Phyllis treated employees with respect, and the work place as a whole became much more egalitarian. Most importantly, he certainly did not allow his newfound wealth get to his head, and due to this he was never met with resentment from his workers.

            

Financial Failures

Financial Failures

Great estates may venture more,

But little boats should keep near shore.

– Benjamin Franklin, “The Way to Wealth”

June 14, 2000

Today I graduate from Harvard Business School with honors. Today is the true beginning of the rest of my life. I wonder what the world has in store for me… What sorts of jobs will I have? Who will I meet? How much money will I make? Will I be happy with my life in 20 years?

I’m starting my internship at a local stock investment company in order to make connections in the world. I certainly don’t want to end up like half of my high school class having to work blue-collar jobs to pay off student loans.

***

January 28, 2002

I got the job! I start at Goldman Sachs tomorrow! I can’t wait to start my life as an investment consultant… I finally get to use the skills I learned at HBS in the real world to make money! I’m excited to invest in the stock market!! I’ve done all of the research, and I’ve put in the time and effort.  There is no way that anybody else is as qualified for this job as me.

***

February 17, 2005

I love my job. I’ve been making the right moves and the right choices so far. I’m expanding into commodities now that I have the money to do so. You have to fight and claw your way up the investment ladder to earn the opportunity to invest in riskier assets – people of lower privilege than me have to wait. It’s my time to shine, baby! They aren’t as good as me!

***

March 4, 2005

Funny thing happened today – a man with almost no money came into our New York office to ask for a job. I laughed myself silly when I saw him – he looked frazzled and uneducated. I doubt he could do anything in this world successfully – he would mess up working at a cash register! I think that the lower classes of society really need to get into their minds that they can’t achieve overly ambitious goals like making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. They need to let go of their dreams to focus on working the jobs they can. They should leave people with money and power like me to take the risks in the world to make money – we can afford it after all.

***

March 29, 2005

Why do these funny things keep happening to me?

First, as I was walking to work, a homeless man asked me for money. I laughed in his face. Do you know why? That man was the bully from high school that always picked on me. Now he has no money and can’t to anything in the world, where as I have the money to do almost anything!

Second, a man dressed in a Jets t-shirt came in to ask for my services. We talked for about 30 minutes before he told me that he has about 200 dollars to invest in a stock portfolio. After hearing that, I told him to get lost. Why would someone waste my time with investing 200 dollars? 200 dollars gets an individual barely one share of a company’s stock. Like I’ve said to people before – if you have no money, don’t get your hopes up.

***

September 15, 2007

I feel like the world has turned upside down. The stock market lost thousands of points today – my investment portfolio literally went down the toilet. All of my stocks, options, and returns went red. I don’t have the ability to calculate the full extent of my losses yet… Hopefully this doesn’t get worse. If it does, then I might lose not only my money but also my job.

September 22, 2007

I. Hate. The. World. I wish life would stop testing my will to exist. It has been a week since the stock market crashed…and I am now part of the nearly 10 percent of Americans without a job. Adding insult to injury, I am virtually broke. Most all of my money was invested in personal accounts at Goldman Sachs – when the stock market fell, all of my investments turned into losses. I now owe Goldman Sachs a lot of money for the losses I have accumulated over the past week. As a result, my house is being foreclosed next week as collateral for the money I owe… I guess I’d better start looking for somewhere to live…

September 28, 2007

The police came to my house today to force me out of my now foreclosed home. I have no place to live. I see now how hard it is to live without money and limited resources in the world. I’d better start looking for a new job. I’m moving back in with my parents next week. Hopefully life will start to get better soon…

***

October 28, 2008

Do you believe in Karma? I didn’t three years ago. Remember when I made fun of that guy who had no money? I wish I hadn’t done that. I see that I am now in fact one of those people – a person with no money who desperately wants a job to get it all back. I think life is teaching me a lesson for being so elitist towards those who really couldn’t help being of lower class.

I now realize how little the average poor person can actually do in the real world. I’ve tried to get a new job to no avail – nobody is hiring in this economic climate. The average person may be able to do what I previously did at Goldman Sachs, but socio-economic bias prevents him from doing so. The average person doesn’t have money to invest in his ideas. With no job and no money, he can’t invest in his future and remains stuck in poverty.  The average poor person doesn’t have the resources to make the connections to advance his life because people of wealth refuse to acknowledge him.

I hope that I can get a small job soon – I hate living off of my parents’ money. I have several interviews lined up over the next week for some small, odd jobs that pay modestly. With some luck, my impressive HBS degree and my work experience at Goldman Sachs, I’ll be able to land one of these jobs so that I can get on with rebuilding my life with my education, work experience and social standing to fall back on, I have an easier chance of climbing out of this hole and “venture” forth.  The underprivileged and poor, I now realize have fewer opportunities and skill sets and consequently must “keep near” their own class and their limited choices in life.  I sympathize with them, but I recognize there is probably no other way to wealth than to take advantage of class differences.

This will be my last journal entry – I am going to start a new journal to symbolize my new life. I bid you farewell.

Proverb Short story

Emily Royer
Blog

“Dost thou love life, then do not squander time,

for that’s the stuff life is made of.”

-Benjamin Franklin

Karl Everett’s seventy-five year old hands shook in the chill of the icy blue morning as he stared out the window, concentrating his gaze on the little yard in front of his house that had changed so much over the years. Deep wrinkles overwhelmed his weathered face, illuminating gray eyes that revealed a deep, unalterable sadness.  Although his body was deteriorating, his memory was intact and served as a constant and painful reminder of her. His eyes scorched two holes through the window pane as he gazed at the white picket fence that Marilyn had wanted more than anything. Marilyn. He saw her there for a brief second, her emerald eyes winking as she smiled at him. And then she was gone.
Each time was more painful than the last, and his stiff body began to shake uncontrollably, contorting Karl into a madman as tears burned his eyes and face. She was the only thing he had ever loved in the world, and his heart broke each time he realized she was never coming back.

***

They met fifty years prior at a bar called Shelly’s. A young and handsome Karl sat drinking a beer and joking around with two of his college friends when a group of vivacious girls strolled through the entrance. All of them were attractive, but a striking honey-blonde, dressed in hot pink stood out from the rest. She exuded an air of carefree confidence as she strutted over to the table adjacent to Karl’s, her black high heels clicking on the floor. She smelled of lilac and Karl found himself inhaling the aroma. It did not go unnoticed.
“Excuse me? What are you doing?”, the girl said cooly, piercing Karl’s eyes with her own, almost unnaturally green ones. “I....I was...nothing, nothing”, stuttered Karl, his eyes still locked with hers. She continued to stare at him, and then let out a resonating laugh. Karl just gaped at her. “Oh to hell with it!” She chuckled, her eyes glittering in the dim light of the bar, “I’m Marilyn”. “And i’m.....Karl! I’m Karl”, he stammered embarrassingly, and she continued to grin. They preceded to enjoy a two hour, utterly awkward yet wonderful conversation before Karl asked her to go on a formal date with him. Marilyn made him wait apprehensively for almost a minute as she pretended to consider what to say, her eyes shining mischievously. Then she got up, leaned over Karl, and whispered into his ear, “I would love to go on a date with you but you have to know something about me first. I have leukemia”. Karl’s eyes widened in shock and he abruptly looked up at her. Marilyn just smiled and said, “It’s not a big deal, we caught it early so i’m FINE!”, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “Call me!” she giggled as she strutted out of the bar with as much charm and charisma as she had entered with, winking at him before disappearing completely.
They went on another date, and another and another. Karl had grown up with some family troubles and had never experienced the actual feeling of love, but everything was clear with Marilyn. The two understood one another entirely, and shared an unspoken bond unlike any Karl had ever felt.  After only one month the two eloped and bought a house together, which spoke to the nature of their whimsical lifestyle. Each time Karl saw Marilyn, she was more beautiful than before. She was smarter, kinder, and more talented than any person Karl had known, and she showed such promise in life that Karl often forgot she was sick.

He enjoyed this ignorant bliss for ten years before Marilyn began to show signs of her cancer. In fact Karl had brought up the idea of having children when Marilyn was forced to tell him that her leukemia was getting worse. This shook Karl, but his eyes were opened to the gravity of the situation only when Marilyn’s body started to become thin and sickly, her hair fell out due to the chemo, and the spark in her eyes began to fade. Marilyn had always been mysterious, and gifted with the ability to conceal what she wanted to, but even she could not hide the ravages of the merciless disease. She held on for a few months of excruciating pain and treatments before dying at age thirty-five, leaving Karl with the memories of her road to death that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

***

Karl had always pictured them growing old together. He and Marilyn sitting on the porch, holding hands, and basking in the warmth of one another’s presence. But this was not the case. He had grown old alone, and miserable. He had enjoyed only ten years with the love of his life before she was taken away from him forever. Karl sighed deeply and his hot breath fogged up the glass so that the fence was no longer visible to him. His beautiful Marilyn was no longer visible and never would be again.

A Small Leak Will Sink a Great Ship

Bryn Weiler

H block

“A Small Leak Will Sink a Great Ship”

A man, clad in a grey suit, looked over his shoulder. The fluorescent lights that lined the hallway behind him revealed that no one was following him. Although no one was following him, someone was watching.

Ten stories down, in the parking lot of the building, a figure pointed the nose of a long camera lens at him and pressed the shutter. Almost as if he heard the camera click, the man slid into the nearest room.

The man disappeared from view, and the figure, who was hiding in the bushes, lowered the camera to the ground. The figure crouched and sighed.

The door clicked and locked behind the man, now in a dim office.

“Have you done everything I told you to?” asked another man, who was sitting at a desk across from the door.

“Yes,” said the first man, who pressed himself against the door, as if he was too afraid to be near the man at the desk.

“You’ve been using cash? Payphones? Changing taxis?”

“Yes, and yes,”

    “All the evidence is destroyed?”
    “Yes,”
    “Good. I want you to know that your diligence has not gone unnoticed. Your actions are going to help many people become very, very rich. And you will too, be sure of that,” said the man at the desk.
    “Thank you,” said the first man as he slithered out the door.

…

The next day, a young woman ran down the street, hair in a messy ponytail, shirt wrinkled. She had been working all night and through the morning. A large camera bag jostled on her shoulder as she sprinted through the door of a building. The sign above the door read “Simon and Hines Consulting Detectives”. As she ran through the lobby, a tall man grabbed her arm.

“I’m going to give you one more day to find concrete evidence for that woman who thinks Diamond Computers stole Pear Computers’ product, Michelle. One more day, and you’re going to tell her there’s nothing to be found,” he said.

“I’m almost there, Mr. Hines. I can feel it. One more day, and I’ll find something,” she promised.

“I can’t keep all my employees working on cases for months like you have! Things need to keep moving!” he said.

When Michelle walked into her cubicle, there was a piece of paper lying on her desk.

“Found a source for you. 35 East Street.     Dan” she read aloud.

She spun around on her heel and jogged right out of her cubicle, scribbling the words “thank you” on a sticky note. Without pausing on her way out of the building, she slapped the note on another cubicle. A blonde man jumped at the noise, but upon reading the note, smiled at Michelle as she pushed through the glass door.

The day’s heat and humidity hit her in a gust as she stepped onto the sidewalk. Her car was even hotter, and she broke into a sweat as she drove to East Street. Whether the sweat was from the heat, or the idea that her reputation at the firm rested on this one last source, she did not know.

Michelle parked her car one block away from East Street. She felt the cold chill of anxiety along her spine as she checked over her shoulder. This part of the city was full of one-family houses, the streets lined with leafy maples.

Clutching Dan’s note with the address on it, Michelle counted houses until she arrived at number 35. With a deep breath, she approached the brick house. Her finger pressed the doorbell. No response. A few minutes later, she decided to ring it again. Before her finger had reached the button, a small girl ran around the side of the house.

The child seemed to be deep in thought, and the sight of Michelle stopped her in her tracks.
“Are you looking for mommy?” she demanded in a surprisingly mature voice.
“Yes, is she home?”
“Come with me!” the toddler grabbed her hand and pulled her around the side of the

house. Michelle tugged her arm away, uncomfortable.

A woman sat on the porch. Precipitation glistened on the side of a glass of lemonade that shone like a jewel in the midday sun. The woman did not stir at the sound of her daughter, who hummed loudly as she walked, but stared unwaveringly into the trees at the edge of the back yard.

Suddenly, her head twisted a sharp ninety-degree angle to look at Michelle and the young girl, making her short brown hair swing wildly.

“Who is this?” she demanded. The girl started to speak but Michelle cut her off.

“Hello, my name is Michelle Strazhanoff. I work for Simon and Hines Consulting Detectives; I’ve been hired by a woman who believes that Diamond Computers has been stealing product ideas and technology from Pear Computers. I have a few questions to ask you, if that’s alright,” she said.

The woman’s eyes grew large and a strange expression clouded her face. It seemed as if she was nervous, but at the same time not surprised by Michelle’s visit.

“I… I do not feel comfortable discussing this with you,”

“This will be a series of questions to which you can reply with a yes or a no. If you wish to remain anonymous, I will respect your decision,” Michelle continued, desperate. She clutched her notepad until her knuckles turned white.

“You people never listen, do you? I know nothing. Please leave,” her tone was harsh and shrill.

Dejected, Michelle started to turn away and walk back to her car. When she was halfway there, still in the shade of the woman’s house, Michelle decided to take a new approach.

She walked back, this time at a slower pace. Her hair was down, out of its utilitarian ponytail. Michelle tried her best to appear relaxed and exude a warm, familiar glow. This woman had to talk.

“Excuse me; I’m sorry I was so curt before. Before I go, could I have a glass of lemonade? This heat is a killer,” she asked with a smile.

“Yes… uh… I don’t see why not,” said the woman, caught off guard by Michelle’s change in attitude.

“I love your haircut! And where did you get that dress? It’s… um… really pretty!”

The woman, attentive now that the conversation was less accusatory, smiled.

“So… what did you want to ask me again?” she asked.

“Diamond and Pear…” Michelle started tentatively.

“Well, I was the secretary for the chief executive officer for about five years. I left six months ago when I realized what they had been doing. You see, there were all these charges to the company credit card for plane tickets to Round Rock, Texas. It just didn’t add up, I couldn’t understand why. When I asked my boss he never answered my question… said it wasn’t my job to be asking these kinds of questions. After a bit of investigating…”

The conversation went on to reveal that Michelle’s customer’s suspicions had truth behind them.

Later that evening, Michelle gave tips to the New York Times. Two days later, the deception that she uncovered made the front page. Diamond Computers eventually confessed and faced charges. The company stayed afloat, but their reputation was ruined. Michelle received a personal thank-you letter from Pear Computers’ CEO.

            She scanned the letter and sent it to her source that confirmed it all and saved Michelle’s career. The woman read it, smiling as she sipped lemonade on her back porch.

            Meanwhile, the man in the grey suit was packing his bags for a flight to Rio, hoping to fade from the memories of the manipulative men he worked for.

A Nighttime Story: A Narrative

Alex Lee
H Block

“When the wells dry, they know the worth of water” - Benjamin Franklin, “The Way to Wealth”

          On the corner of Oak Street and Thoreau Street, there was a little red house. In that particular red house, the usually energetic children were getting ready to go to bed when they begged their grandfather to tell them another bedtime story. The old man, whom they affectionately called “Grandpa!” relented and told them to sit down around the armchair while he told them his story.
        “Once upon a time, there was a group of people called the Naras. At first, they were only a small tribe of people in a land of many other similar tribes. Life was simple back then; some people in the tribe hunted for wild animals in the forest, some people farmed for simple plants, some people went fishing, and they all sat together and ate their spoils at the end. School did not exist, because back then nobody had time for it. People didn’t fight with each other since there was nothing to fight about. All of the tribes got along peacefully, but there were bad countries near them that constantly bullied the people. Now the bad countries were mean bullies, but the tribes were too small to do anything about it. That is, until the Naras chose a new leader -  James Buchard.

He was charismatic, and persuasive, and he went around to each tribe and convinced them to join in an alliance. When the alliance was mighty enough, he brilliantly led his people into battle and victory after victory, with his lands growing more and more with each triumph. After a really long and grueling  battle, the mean countries signed a treaty to stop bullying the Naras and James Buchard was hailed as a hero. But all good things eventually end, and he died. His successors, the Buchards, succeeded in creating the largest empire known, with vast forestlands filled with animals and beautiful oceans bursting with fish...”

The old man paused to take a drink of milk.

        “Grandpa, what happened next?” asked the youngest child in front of him.         He replied, “Well Sammy, what would you do if you were in charge of the largest empire in the world?”
        After thinking for a while, the child replied, “I would probably try to make everyone in my empire happy!”
        The old man smiled.

“Good answer Sammy, and that’s exactly what the rulers of Nara did. They put down their swords and weapons to pick up the tools of growth. Halting dreams of conquest, they turned inwards to help their people. Now back then, life was very hard. If you wanted to go to your school, what do you do?”

        A child answered, “We’d go out and wait for the bus, Grandpa.”
        “Well back then, you would have to walk all the way to school by yourself, which would take a really long time! But now, when we want water, all we have to do is turn the sink on, and if we are scared of the dark, all we have to do is turn the lights on. Back then, none of those things existed. Do you like playing with toys and watching TV? Those were unknown luxuries back then, too.”
        The same child said, “That doesn’t sound fun!”
        The old man responded, “You’re very right Johnathan, it was not very fun. People also had no time to do anything. To fix that, the people of Nara started to develop technology. The scientists made advances in leaps and bounds, creating cars and trains for people to get to where they needed faster, discovered electricity and made it easier to do just about anything. This cause the people in Nara to grow, and as the population-”
        Sammy interjected “What does that mean?”
        “Population means the number of people, honey. Now, the population of Nara was growing because life was easier. That soon became a problem when the people of Nara needed more land. To fix that problem, the rulers of Nara ordered that the vast forestlands be cut down and people move in. Then there came the issue of food. The Naras originally grew their own food on farms, but with the growing number of people, they needed to find another source of food. The leaders turned to the oceans, which were full of fish, to feed their people. That sounds smart right?”
The children said in unison, “Yes”
The old man grinned “Wrong! What ended up happening was that the population only grew more and more, and the people wanted more and more food. The soil was getting eroded-”
Sammy started to ask “Wha-”
“Eroded means gradually wearing down something by using it too much,” the old man interjected with a knowing smile. “The Naras farmed, fished, and hunted more intensely and more frequently to support the growing population. Eventually, the fish weren’t there anymore. Suddenly, the beasts in the forest disappeared, and whenever you planted something, it didn’t grow. The population of Nara suddenly had nothing to eat, and the people were not too happy about that. They grew more and more angry at the leaders of Nara and eventually rebelled, tearing the nation apart,” the old man paused, exhausted from telling the story. “Now kids, can you tell me the reason the Naras fell apart?”
Jonathan answered “Because they had no food, right Grandpa? You just told us.”
“Well that is true, but the main reason they had no food was because the foolish leaders of Nara assumed that they would always have certain things from their environment, and abused the lands they were living in. The moral of the story is: never take anything for granted, even the things that you think are always going to be at your side. So remember to recycle that next newspaper or that next bottle of milk,” noticing the children were tired, he said “Now Grandpa’s tired, run along and go to bed! Good night and sweet dreams!”