Please take a trip by the Raven's Nest and say Hi to Katherine. As in, "Hi Katherine, I hear your candidate for president, Barack Obama got elected on Tuesday, Congratulations" or something like that. Then read her stories, they are always delightful or thought provoking or just plain good reading.
If after that, you still have the need for more reading, feel free to follow the links to the many other great stories contributed by the talented pool of writers doing their Wordzzle thing.
Then, should you still find yourself able to read more, then you might take a gander at my continuing story below. Good luck.
This Week's Ten Word Challenge will be: France, cold weather, backhoe, light and shadow, Humane society, ambivalent, “Happy Birthday, Sarah Jane,” Martians, Thanksgiving Day Parade, green eyes
Mini Challenge: she’ll be comin' round the mountain when she comes, pumpkin pie, yellow jacket, short-changed, life after 50
Most people know some of the names of the financial capitols of world. Just like most people think they know the words to "She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes"; only they really don't. If you can recall the "six white horses line" then you're doing better than most. The financial centers are much more complex and numerous in today's modern, electronically connected economy.
While Zurich, Berlin, Paris, London, New York, Tokyo, Hong Kong and a few other old school financial centers still take on the lions share of the work, it's the out of the way cities, mostly on Island nations that handle private secured accounts. These are the places where the mega profits, legal and misbegotten, public and private, from every kind of organization and operation on our planet find their final resting place before being spent on mansions, yachts, clothes, jewelry, cars and the other various accoutrements of the filthy rich.
In just one such location on the Island of Grand Cayman, there was rumored to be over 50 trillion dollars in elicit booty. These were the accounts of the entitled and fabulously wealthy, who were not about to be short-changed by current economic fluctuations. In fact the actual number was a factor of ten greater than rumored. It was because of this that Claude had decided to start the deadly chain reaction of account transfers, manipulations and hacking that was the setup for his grand scheme, on this island.
From a local Western Union office in Largo, Maryland, Claude sent the telegram that would start the chain of events. “Happy Birthday, Sarah Jane” was all it said. The message went to a fictitious individual on the island who immediately upon receipt of the missive went to work. He made the call to his crew and scheduled the backhoe for 3:00 pm local time. His crew would start the dig and shut down at 4:30 sharp. The electrical outage would start at 10 minutes past 6, the time the last employee left for the weekend. It would take till Saturday to discover the problem and get the local electric company out to fix it.
“Finally” Claude thought to himself, “it begins.” Somewhere in between the light and shadow of the financial world his machinations began to take shape. By Monday morning the stage would be set. He took a minute to think of his home in France, how his mother had loved the cold weather in the winter.The sparkle of her green eyes as they walked through the snow was a cherished memory. After all these years it still made him want to cry. How could someone that beautiful have been snuffed out of existence because a corporation was too cheap to buy enough fire extinguishers or properly man a dangerous installation?
The telegram to Grand Cayman started a series of communications to all the known financial centers and to many less known ones as well. Favors were being repaid this weekend, retirement accounts were being filled and accounts were being settled, both literally and figuratively. In New York City, the Thanksgiving Day Parade would be the beneficiary of an anonymous donation of 5 million dollars. All across the globe charities would find the spirit of giving had taken on new meaning this season. Interestingly enough, the Humane Society in every major city in the US received large donations from unknown sources within 24 hours of each other. The blogosphere would be rife with rumors as to the identity of the benefactor for months.
Major metro areas homeless shelters found themselves with commitments for Turkeys and pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving meals far in excess of any previous year.
Claude donned his yellow jacket with the logo “Life after 50” emblazoned across the back. Anyone who saw him would take him to be a rich baby boomer reliving his youth. The western union employees would remark on the late model Beamer he drove as he departed the store. This was a part of his field craft and allowed him to carry out his plan without fear of being discovered. No one was looking for wealthy 55 year old boomers or paying them that much attention, just their cars and Harleys.
Monday would bring much consternation to this country and many of its people. Claude was ambivalent about their feelings. It was results that counted. He would know within 48 hours if it would come together and produce the outcome he had anticipated.
Unless Martians invaded the earth over the weekend, the results of his plan were likely to be the biggest headline in this country and the world for some time. At least he hoped so. There were a lot of people that deserved some justice; that needed him to be their swift sword of vengeance. Not the least of these were his family and the others lost in the explosion.
Hopefully the collateral damage would be minimal.