Everything I Want To Say

skyscraper

The richest man in the world built a skyscraper so tall that it intrigued every man, woman, and child who ever heard of it. He announced to the world across all media, that on one randomly-picked day—the when will not be announced in advance—the doors to the skyscraper will be opened for one and all.

There will be no discrimination on that day. The rich, the poor, foreigners and locals, children and adults, everyone will be welcome.

The news inspired a grand influx of the hopeful and the hopeless. They came dressed in finery, they straggled with walking sticks, they watched with backpacks from a distance.

Days passed. Those who hadn't given up, stayed behind in camps. New aspirants arrived week after week. They tried to get as close as they could to the entrance of the skyscraper, but it wasn't possible anymore.

Uniformed men with guns and helmets, who served the interests of the wealthier aspirants, monitored the entrance and shot down anyone who got too close. The rich formed an alliance—a guild, an association, an order—and they allowed only those they trusted, or those who were prepared to give up their properties and bodies. For a lot of people, this meant a spot near the entrance of the skyscraper. That was enough.

From high outposts, members of the Entrance watched over the poor and the less-fortunate. They kept score of how many had come and how many had gone. Each time an aspirant slipped and fell in mud, members of the Entrance clapped their hands and laughed. They ate roast pork, and their breads were seasoned with oregano and olives.

Over time, they employed the poor. If you had a chance to make money, you had a chance to buy your way into the Entrance. Wasn't that why they were all there?

So the poor—those who hadn't been claimed by the elements or the bullets or the emptiness in their bellies—worked for those who were closer to the Entrance.

A year passed since the announcement. The Entrance celebrated with fireworks, cakes too expensive for the poor, and alcohol so rare that it had to be delivered in secret, by the cover of night.

The poor did not celebrate at all. They had been too busy working by the day, so they relaxed and fell asleep when they got home.

The ones who weren't too exhausted had other things to do. Most of these things were beggin. Some of them, however, stole from the Entrance. They could steal a spot closer to the entrance of the skyscraper, but they could at least steal enough wealth to get closer to the Entrance with a capital E.

When the Entrance had had enough, they sent their men down into the alleys and through the gutters of the shanties that had sprung up around their elegant housings. With the steady drumbeat of an automatic magazine being emptied, they cleaned up the troublemakers, leaving behind wounds that festered until their boils grew and grew...

And then it burst.

When the poor had had enough, the bullets flew both ways. The Entrance fought back, first with confidence, then with desperation, and finally, with misery. Outnumbered, they slammed the glass doors of the skyscraper, even as their own blood stained the clean surfaces.

When the doors opened, the first to enter the skyscraper were the corpses of the ones who had been the closest to the entrance.

It wasn't enough, of course.

They still had to find the man who built the skyscraper.