Businesswoman Chapter 164

Fascbinder kicked a dog. He walked in the alleyways dotted with potholes filled with water. A mist hung in the air. The Collectivist walked into a coffee shop. He looked at the menu and decided to get a large cup of ice. He didn’t want to pay some huge corporation without government controlling it all. He received the huge cup and stuffed his hand in the cup. His cut up and bruised hand from striking against a brick wall looked raw and red in the clear plastic cup.

He sat there and understood that he had a job to do. His feelings became entwined with his reality. As he emoted, there came a realization that he just might not survive another twenty-four hours. Like a thief readying for a break-in, Fascbinder sketched on a napkin his plans to do his own speeches. He wanted money, too. Of course he couldn’t command nine figures like the Individualists. He could, however, become a better speaker just working the underground circuit. To wait for someone to “save” him, he put aside his slim amount of thoughts of individualism.

The ice began to melt and the murky red water dripped from the table to the floor. When he looked out the window to the cozy coffee spot, he peered at the possibilities that could be made apparent to him. He grimaced and left the bloody cup behind without disposing of it. Some patrons watched him leave his mess. Fascbinder walked the streets of Wilmington with numbness not just in his hand but also in his spirit. Run-ins with the other side had damaged his soul. He didn’t mind it, however, he felt the pain that pervaded his entire being. All of the days he spent trying to use his doctrine motivated him to continue.