Requiem for an Accountant
"He barged into the oversized boardroom, still in his Eskimo parka and Arctic gloves, tottered to the nearest empty chair, half an hour late. The meeting of twenty people shuddered to a halt.
John Collins, the senior partner glared at him, starting in with a list of questions.
" How is the audit of Westwinds Hotel coming along with Gary? Wasn't it supposed to have been finished last week ? " he looked from Gary back to him.
Meanwhile, his discarded parka was dripping water onto a chair and part of the conference table and his boots had left a stain on the expensive blue-grey plush carpet.
Gary attempted a rescue but failed miserably. " Sir, I think we've discovered a fraud."
A hush fell over the room. All eyes focused on them. Gary began to twitch. "
- Extract from Heart of New York.
It's that time of year- personal tax returns have to be filed here in Canada by April 30.
Gary turned from an office colleague into a fast friend until his early death at the age of 43 of a heart attack during the tax season.
Despite the horrendous shortfalls in basic needs of its citizenry, there was no sign of self pity but an inspirational energy if a visitor like me could put away the past and a longing for a bygone age where all power and privilege had been torn out of the black African’s hands .
Tyrion Lannister suggested people were not bound together by banners, castles or mighty kings but by stories of their heritage held by “The Keeper of Stories”.
Wherever I travel , I pick up “Harrods” bags and always ask for extras,. These I carry round with me daily. They store my bills to pay, a diary and some cash. Today, I am sporting a forest green bag with gold lettering from Hatchards of Piccadilly , booksellers since 1797 , bearing the royal crests of The Queen, Prince Philip and the Prince of Wales.