dolorous interludes.

Fields of golden wheat and millet shone as gold trophies under the blazing sunshine and clear skies. They had grown tall now, with proper care, always: machinery, grade A fertilisers, irrigation pipeways, pesticides; The Best. Commerciaism had diversified its crop, and the fields were at least a few thousand hectares in land space. Even the vagaries of nature could not and did not lower the productivity of these miracle rice seeds, and truly, the minds of this perfect contruct were too brilliant, for even nature was manipulated to their favour. On the other end of this brown turf, another plantation occupying at most three hundred hectares in land space, struggled to even maintain their subsistence produce. Were they not under the same skies and ruled by the same Kings and Queens? Yes, surely one would expect the same favour to be upon this handsome group of dilligent workers that came in a stock of tens of thousands. But no. There, the sun was indeed blazing, but poverty had trapped them as the steel prison gates would, and they found themselves having nothing but only their bare hands to bring them through the day. Favourable Chance stood not by their side it seemed, and so they plodded, slogged, and ranted. Surely now, they would reap what was sowed, for was not hard work the basis of what most would regard as the sure way to success? So strange it seemed then, that the latter had to work increasingly hard to maintain the little that they were already earning, while the former, clad in their leather boots, straw hats, sun shades, and linen shirts merely soaked in the rays of the smiling sun and thought of the varieties of meat for dinner.

posted by voyeur @ 10/06/2003 09:02:00 PM