People with power are often not nice.
And I wonder if they are not nice (with other people) because they have reached a power position or if they got where they are because they were not nice. Not caring about others’ sensitivity, focused on their own success, keen to step on others’ interests, not available for compromise (unless they have no other mean to get what they want).
A kiosk was for sale nearby our home.
The old man running it was probably tired and put a note asking for 45.000 euro.
I wondered about buying it and thus enter the alluring world of press.
Afterwards, I remarked that the following kiosk was also on the market as well as others around the town.
Probably the business is declining, notwithstanding the innumerable effects on sale with the papers nowadays.
One day this kiosk closed down and a new notice informed that the price was negotiable.
Last Wednesday I passed by and on the stall there was another note; the price is now 25.000, and a ghastly post-scriptum, by the owner, was informing: I am still alive!.
The blossom of flowers has got something magic, it really is an expression of power and magnificence, a sort of miracle.
And it lasts little, the flowers dry up soon and the glory of their birth is replaced by dust.
The other day I witnessed this occurrence, one of the orchids we bought finally got flowers, they were gorgeous. And the day after (look at the photo and try to visualize) they were already dry.