Saturday 8 November 2014

First and Last


'Well, Monty, you've lead a prosperous life, with every luxury that money can buy.'
'Have I?'
'Yes! Look at this house of yours; walls boasting fine art beyond the scope of the common man.'
'I hardly give the paintings a glance.'
'And the house is full of bespoke furniture and technology.'
'It's empty.'
'Twenty bedrooms, individually decorated, with no expense spared.'
'All spare rooms.'
'And what a career to look back on: The successful businesses with all those staff from whom you commanded respect.'
'Fear.'
'Can't you see that you have, and have had, what most people can only dream of?'
'Huh.'
'You're not happy?'
'You know I'm not.'
'But you've lead a full li-'
'Empty.'
'Empty?'
'As empty as this house! A life void of life, of love, of friendship. What good was it, amassing the millions, acquiring the objects, the things, the stuff, this inanimate stuff? It's all nothing. Who have I shared it with? Who have I, to pass it on to, now I'm at the end of this worthless life, facing the void ahead of me with a void behind me? A sad old man, alone in an empty house, talking to himself.'

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