To the Artist's Page To our home page
To Richard Fein's previous piece To Mark Hartenbach's next piece
The Dynamics of Capitalism While fumbling for change to buy the paper, I drop two quarters. Suddenly I'm seized by curiosity. I pretend not to notice. What course would the grandmotherly proprietress follow? She saw the coins fall, she must have, for her suspicious eyes had never left me. But she just sits there vulture-like as I walk down the aisle and turn my back but not the corner of my eye. Now she makes her move. She switches her gaze from me to the coins; she swoops and I swipe a candy bar of equal worth. Then noisily I turn and proceed slowly towards the door. She wears a Mona Lisa grin. I give her a polite nod and leave. I find myself under the shadows of skyscrapers almost infinitely tall, each tower raised by countless deals upon deals made in myriad corporate boardrooms, pyramids built by endless fair exchanges.
To the top of this page