278 lines
18 KiB
Plaintext
278 lines
18 KiB
Plaintext
ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßÛßßßßßÛÛÜ ÜÜßßßßÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÛßß ßÛÛ
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ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÛ ÜÛÛÛÜÛÛÜÜÜ ßÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÝ Ûß
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ßßßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÞÝ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßßÛÜÞÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßßÛÛÛÞß
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Mo.iMP ÜÛÛÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÝ ßÛß
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ß ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß
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ÜÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÜÜ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÞÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛßß
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ÜÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÛÛÛÛÜÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛ ßÛÛÛÛÛ Ü ÛÝÛÛÛÛÛ Ü
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ÜÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ßÛÜ ßÛÛÛÜÜ ÜÜÛÛÛß ÞÛ ÞÛÛÛÝ ÜÜÛÛ
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ÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÜ ßßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÜÜÜß ÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÛÛÛß
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ßÛÜ ÜÛÛÛß ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßßÜÜ ßßÜÛÛßß ßÛÛÜ ßßßÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßß
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ßßßßß ßßÛÛß ßßßßß ßßßßßßßßßßßßß
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ARRoGANT CoURiERS WiTH ESSaYS
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Grade Level: Type of Work Subject/Topic is on:
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[ ]6-8 [ ]Class Notes [Essay on a Hopeful ]
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[ ]9-10 [ ]Cliff Notes [Encounter, Creative ]
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[ ]11-12 [x]Essay/Report [Essay. ]
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[x]College [ ]Misc [ ]
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Dizzed: 09/94 # of Words:2913 School: ? State: ?
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ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>Chop Here>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
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Hopefull Encounter
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The sun was setting. Far to the east, threatening black clouds arose
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from the fumes of pollution from the several smoke stacks towering over the
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city. The streets were pock marked and dented with the recent shower of
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acid rain. Hot boiling steam from the sewers made the temperature of day
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much hotter than it really was. Just outside the borders of the city is a
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lake covered with muck and crude oil spills. Death and despair floated
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aimlessly on the surface of the unhospitable body of water. Corpses of dead
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fish, seagulls... bobbed just under the rim of the black slime. The black
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slime sensing fresh prey, extended it's corrupt and revolting tendrils
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farther...until it caught another unsuspecting victim, choking and
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engulfing, destroying, leaving just another emtpy shell behind, devoid of
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any life.
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Night set in, the stars were obscured by thick blankets of smoke. The
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day was done. Stores got ready to lock up and street lights were turned on
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to aid the bread winners, so they may travel safely. Few were fortunate
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enough to own automobiles so they could avoid the cold dangerous streets
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and dark alleyways. Most shops were already abandoned, finished for the
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day. Yet few doors were still open, desperate for any last minute
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customers. One such shopkeeper was Phil Anderson. Anderson had worked as
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a pharmacist for most of his life. At forty, he had little to show for.
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The pollution that caused the gradual decay of the city had had negative
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effects on business, as well as the environment. Phil, though by all means
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not an old man, showed signs of premature aging. His skin was pale and
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dry, wrinkled by the everyday punishment of the deteriorating sorroundings.
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Few strands of grayish white hair lined his almost bald, dandruff infested
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scalp. Looking at Phil with his characteristic limp, slouched posture and
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bulging belly one might think him an extremely unathletic person. But then
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again it was not entirely his fault. His eyes were red and bloodshot, the
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glasses he wore only made these features more obvious.
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With shaking skinny hands, Phil slowly put away the last of the items
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on top of the counter. Finally done, he flicked off the lights and
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rummaged through his pockets for his keys. Looking one last time to make
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sure the shop was in order, Phil locked up the store and left. He failed t
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o notice a dark shadow spying on him as he counted the bills he had earned
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today, and put it away into his black leather wallet. The tall dark figure
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studied the pharmacist a while longer before trailing him. The narrow
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dirty street smelled of weeks old garbage and animal wastes. Smog was
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still thick in the air causing him to cough repeatedly. He stopped for a
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moment to catch his breath. Remembering his air filter in his pocket, Phil
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gingerly took it out and put it on. Feeling much better Phil continued
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down the street, heaving a sigh of relief.
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He headed towards home, but soon remembering that he always stops by
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the Charleton Bar for a drink or two, Phil abruptly changed direction.
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Sounds of laughter and grumbling reached his ears as Phil pushed open the
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doors of the Charleton.
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The Charlton is located at Bradleys street, just a couple of blocks
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away from Phil's Pharmacy. Often did Phil come here to unload and forget
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his problems. This old ba r is small and a little rundown but by no means
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deserted. Though built with concrete, The Charleton was wooden inside. It
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was dimly lit by old-fashioned lanterns placed along the walls, that gave
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it an atmosphere of relaxation. At least the problems of the world can be
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temporarily forgotten in here, drowned out in a pint of beer. A low
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slanted ceiling hung over head. Years of exposure to acid rain caused the
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wood to decay. Wood fillings was occasionally used to patch up the holes.
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Although the variety of alchoholic beverages served here were not abundent,
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the ones they did have were quite popular. Their Spinner and Geinis for
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example, were among the house favorites. Few scattered chairs and tables
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were spread around the room in no apparent order. Most were occupied. A
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middle aged couple sat in the middle of the room talking softly amongst
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themselves, minding their own business. Far in the shadows of the corner
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was a young lad, who it seemed to Phil, was too Young to have leagally
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entered the bar. Clutched in his hands was the weaker of the drinks that
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the bar offered. Yet the young inexperianced drinker wobbled heavily in
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his seat, unaccostomed to anything containing alcohol. He must have
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sneaked in, Phil thought casually, many do. These days no one really cares
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anymore. Scattered around the rest of the Charlton were the usual bunch, a
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few bums, workers who had shops close to the Charleton, and young ones who
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find the world outside too harsh and demanding, so they come here to seek
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shelter. But it was no permanent shelter, Phil knew. They would have to
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face their problems all too soon.
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There was one person in the crowed that Phil did not recognize. He
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was a newcommer, Phil knew, because He was sitting on his favorite stool,
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up on the counter. He sat alone sipping on his Spinner with long easy
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glulps, marking him a frequent vistor to Taverns. The stranger had clear
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blue eyes and sandy coloured hair. The corner of his eyes mouth were drawn
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with lines, proof of the hard times. He was of normal built and seemed a
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little taller than average height. His posture was a little stooped, he
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probrably worked on construction or something straining to the body. The
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newcommer was no means unattractive though, Phil would guess he could pick
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up a girl or two any day. There was something refreshing about him. A
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certain aurora of confidence and hope radiated from him. Maybe it was the
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way he handled himself, or something else, made Phil curious about him. He
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decided to walk over to talk to him. Phil leaned slighly on his right leg
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making his way to bar. The floor boards creaked with each step Phil took.
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The floor was old, but still had a lot of years in them.
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Phil came up to the counter, "The usual Frank", he said, going to the
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seat beside the stranger, he looked to him for approval, before sitting
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down. The stranger who introduced himself as Bill, gruntend his approval
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and motioned to the seat opposite of him. Phil smiled and took the stool
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beside the newcommer. Phil introduced himself, " I'm Phil Anderson." "One
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ginies comming up", Frank bellowed while pouring Phils drink.
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The Pharmacist and Bill immediately started on a light conversaton.
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"So, I haven't seen you around? Are you new here?" Bill Stevens was the
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driver of a furniture delivery, who just happened to have a job in the
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area. After dropping off a truck load of furnishings for a certain Mr.
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Jones. He decided to head for a bar on his break, to quench his thirst.
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Bill casually mentions to Phil that he was the father of two. Phil shook
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his head in astonishment, "In times like these, how do you manage?" Bill
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related to some bad times, but brighly spoke of how he always managed to
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pull through. "What do you do?", Bill asked after speaking of his family.
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"I run a pharmacy not far from here!" "Thats pretty good. You must make
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quite a lot", Bill responded, sincerely. "No, just enough", Phil sighted.
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That must still be pretty good... I mean a pharmacy? People need a drug
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store!" "Sometimes", Phil replied then shook his head. A moment of silence
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followed before Phil finally spoke. "So what do you think will happen ...
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in the future, I mean?", Phil asked pessimistically. Bill raised his
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eyebrows, "What do you mean?" "Were all going to die! Can't you see
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what's happening all around? What do you think I mean?", Phil burst out in
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a fit of anger. "C'mon Phill, it's not that bad, people are working on
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recycling, were cutting down on fossil fuels, using solar energies, using
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products that are environmentally friendly and trying to stop deforestaion.
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Some day we're all going to wake up and this will all be a bad dream.",
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Bill stated with confidence and conviction. "Recycling? You really think
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that's going to do any good? It's too late! We've done enough damage to
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the earth to last an eternity. The pollution on earth is like a cancerous
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growth, incurable and spreading. No puny effort of ours is ever going to
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turn this around. It's all downhill from here", Phil sobbed. He then took
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a long pull on his mug. Bill was surprised at the weakness that Phil just
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demonstrated. He looked at Phil sympathetically, "Phil, what you say is
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true, we have polluted our world extensively. But there is still hope. We
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can turn this around. As a parent I should be more concerned than you,
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because I have my childrens future to worry about. If we try hard, we'll
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pull through, I'm sure of this. But we have to Fight and fight hard. We
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may not do it this generation or even the next, but our children and our
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childrens children will carry on. We'll manage!" Phil looked to Stevens in
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shock. That was the biggest piece of crap he had heard in his whole
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lifetime. Yet what Bill said got him thinking. Could there really be
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hope? Phil did not know. Bill was a father of two children, he believes
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that they will have a future, how can he be so optimistic? Maybe it was'nt
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as bad as he thought it was, yet it was'nt as easy as bill said it would it
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either. But what chance does the world have by thinking negatively, and
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doing nothing but complain and grumble about the past. Instead of
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inaction, why not contribute and help. Instead of making the problem worse
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than it already is. Nothing is to be gained by negatively, a whole world
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could be lost. Think of a brighter future, and pitch in, the world can be
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saved. After contemplating this, he changed his outlook, from bleak to
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hopefull. He met Bill's gaze with a determined look, "You may be right,
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but in my point of view it may very well go the other way. People might be
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too greedy to care about the world, even if it meets destruction." "I
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agree", Bill replied, thoughfully. "But we have to always have a positive
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attitude." Phil nodded, happy that Stevens accepted, only if to a small
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extent, his opinion. "Yes", he repeated, "A positive attitude." Phil
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still had his doubts. Big corporations that had so much to lose by
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employing costly pollution reduction techniques might be reluctant to
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cooperate. Ignorant individuals who thinks "oh the other guy will do it"
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will make efforts, futile. If you don't start participating, who will? All
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you can do is set an example, and hope that others will follow your lead.
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This and more, Bill had taught him.
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Both men sat there for a few more minutes sipping their drinks. Soon
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Bill stood up and prepared to leave, He said goodbye to Phil. Phil
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Anderson held up his hand, "Wait which way are you headed?" Stevens
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reversed the question, "Which way are you going?" "Just up the road to
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Bay Street", Phil replied. "What a coincidence, I'm going the same way
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too", Bill exclaimed. "Just wait I'll come with you, give me a sec to
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finsh this off." Phil gulped down the remaining contents of ginies in his
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mug. His friends Tom, Ray and Wil urged him to stay a while longer, for
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another round of drinks. But Phil politely declined. They usually go home
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together. There's safety in numbers. Especially at hard times like these,
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where robbers and thieves roaming the streets is commonplace. Tonight,
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Phil wanted to accompany his new friend.
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After a quick goodbye to his buddies, Phil rose and joined Bill, they
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opened the doors of the Charelton and headed out to the streets.
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Phil felt a certain bond towards Bill, he inspired hope and
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confidence. Phil had'nt felt this certain of himself for so long that he
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forgot how great it felt. He knew that this would be a start of a good
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friendship.
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"So tell me more about yourself and your kids, what do you do to help
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the environment?", Phil wanted to know. Bill did not answer, he seemed to
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be preoccuppied with some other thoughts. "Are you all right?" ,Phil
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asked. "Oh, sorry I was just thinking about something." "What?", the
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Pharmacist inquired. "How to rob you!", came Bill's reply. Phil looked to
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Stevens in shocked disbelief, he then noticed the smile that was playing
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acoss Bill's face, and realized it was a joke. Phil laughed long and hard,
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he hasn't felt this good in a while. They walked down a few more blocks
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and were approaching the run down part of town. "This place always gives
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me the creeps, it really helps that your with me." "Yeah... right.", Bill
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said.
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They were walking down a particullary dark alleyway when Bill suddenly
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stopped. He looked around to make sure nobody was around. Phil, puzzled
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asked, "Something wrong Bill?" "Nothing", came the answer, "everything is
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just fine." Bill suddenly grabbed the scruff of Phil's shirt and pushed
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him against the wall. "Bill what are you doing?", Phil cried out,
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frightened and confused. "What does it look like I'm doing you fat
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bastard!", Bill snapped sarcastically. Now, where's your wallet?", the
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thief demanded. "Bill I don't get it? Why are you doing this?", Phil
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croaked weakly, even more confused now. "Why am I doing this? Are you
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that stupid? To survive in this polluted dump!" Phil shook his head,
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struggling in vain to break free of Bill's grasp. "What about all the
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things you said about the world being a better place?", Phil asked
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desperately. "What about your family, your kids?" "You actually believed
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all that bull. I just told you whatever it took to get you out of that bar
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and get you here. So I can do this!" Phil saw coldness in Bill, his
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expression, distant and unfeeling. The Bill he had met at the Charleton
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was no more. Replaced by a cold and calculated thief. "You really meant
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what you said in the bar, I can tell! You really did! It's true, we'll
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survive! You can't be like this. I know there's good in Bill Stevens!"
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Phil sputtered. "That's not true and you know it, and you believed it!
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You were a fool to have me trick you!" "Listen Bill, everyone can change,
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you made me believe. I was wrong to simply complain and do nothing when I
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could help save the world. If we all pitch in, as you said, it can really
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work!" Phil pleaded with the thief, trying to make him see reason. Bill
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hesitates for a moment and his expression softened, revealling desperation
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and guilt. But then in seconds, the mask of coldness returned. Bill fixed
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Phil with a hard stare, then reached into Phil's pocket. "This is my life,
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what I do, I can't change now. It's too late!", Bill said, as if it was
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any consolation to Phil. "It's never too late!", Phil cried, "Bill, just
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hear me out!" Bill snorted and gave Phil a swift and strong blow to the
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abdomen, dropping him to the pavement like a ton of bricks. Doing that,
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Bill ran off and disappeared into the night. Leaving a crumpled, pathetic
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form, lying in the dirty deserted alleyway.
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The pitter patter of rain drops soon bombarded the city. Sulphurous
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clouds released pounding sheets acid rain. Though this downpour did not
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cool the city in any way. Steam from the gutters still erupted with
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unrelented pressure. As the stinging pelts continued their assault on
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nature. The lake outside the borders of the city was filled with more
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bodies of helpless victims, that slowly suffered, because of man. The moon
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was still not seen, nor will it be, anytime in the future, as dark swirling
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clouds obscured the sky.
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IN the alley, the rain fell down upon Phil as he sat peniless and
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hopeless in a puddle. The acidic rain burned through Phil's coat,
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gradually eroding away the fabric. Footsteps headed towards Phil in urgent
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haste. "Phil, what happened? Are you all right?", Tom called out. Phil's
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buddies in the Charleton had just finished their drinks and were just
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heading home. Tom, who spotted Phil hunched on the pavement and quickly
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came to see what was wrong. Ray and Wil followed not too far behind but
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elected to keep silent. Depressed and angry, Phil simply wanted to be alone
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right now, "Get out of here! Go away! Leave me alone", he shouted in
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between tears. Tom flinched at the harshness of Phil's tone. He glanced
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one more time at his friend and walked away. Wil and Ray not knowing what
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to do followed Tom's example and granted Phil's request for privacy.
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Cold and numb, Phil put his hands into his pockets in a pitifull
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attempt to stay warm. After losing all his money, he was even more
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depressed than ever. Reaching deeper into his pocket, Phil felt a
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rectangular leather object, then smiled. Once again, Phil Anderson, felt
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hope.
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