Late Night Lesson

Darren awoke with a start and with the uncomfortable feeling that someone was in his room. He sat up in his bed and sure enough there was a man in a white suit sitting cross legged on the collapsible stool in the corner, a rocks glass in his thin fingers.

"What the...." Darren stammered.

"There is something that I would like to tell the people about power," the man spoke in an effete British accent. "I would like people to realize that power is an abstract theory that in and of itself is worthless unless someone stands by the side and vouches for its worth."

Darren thought the man may be drinking absinthe, but he realized quite suddenly that it may in fact be a Midori sour.

"I wasn't finished Mr. Marshal," the man said.

"My name isn't Mr. Marshal. And how the hell did you get in here?"

"While power in and of itself is worthless, it can be banked in order to purchase other ideas. Some people broker their power so that they may force their will onto others; completely banal. Others invest their power so that they may write, indelibly, their names on the pages of history. Still others use their power in hopes that they can finally stop caring what others think of them. And this is my point Mr. Marshal..."

"My name is not Mr. Marshal, it's Darren Hubbard."

"This is not a privilege that power may purchase."

The man knocked back the rest of his green tinged drink and stood. He collapsed the stool and put it beneath his arm,

"I'm going to take the stool," he said as he walked out the room and, shortly after, out the front door of the apartment.


Confidential to Nikki 2 K’s, Gorgeous and Sarah (if you’re out there): Thanks for coming out last night, I had a good time.