Morning all. I have my fuzzy socks on today. My toes were just feeling a little chilly when I got up. I think Autumn might have only put in a token appearance this year. Well at least according to the cold toe method of organizing these things. Even so, socks on, squishy cardigan at the ready and timer set. I am ready for the morning fifteen. Time to warm up fingers and brains.
Given the atmosphere, I half expected something political to pop out of my brain. Instead I went from philosophical to scheming. I’ll try not to read too much into that.
Wednesday, November 4th: He was philosophical about his defeat.
He was philosophical about his defeat. He tried. He failed. Was that worse than not bothering to try? At the moment if felt worse. He felt drained, mind, body and soul. He felt like a loser. A feeling enhanced by the wicked laughter that echoed in his ears as he picked up his things and headed out to the car.
Yes, he tried and failed, yes he lost.
Sort of.
He kept his shoulders slumped and dragged his feet as he walked down the path. He let their insults roll off of him, let their laughter bounce around his ears. He reached his car and slid his box into the back seat. He locked the back door, unlocked the front and slid into the driver’s seat. There was relief when the door blocked the sound of their voices. He tried not to let it show. He backed out of his parking space, shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot with a bump as he entered the main road. Still he kept a look of humiliated defeat on his face until he rolled through the first intersection and turned onto the road leading out of town.
Once certain he was no longer observed, he relaxed, let the feelings slide away. He knew it was a long shot. He knew succeeding now, while preferable would have been a million to one shot. Still he hoped. He hoped and he tried. With that possibility no longer an option, he had only one course left. Beth told him it was better not to try and to just concentrate on the second path as it had the better chance of success. She felt concentrating on one path would help ensure success. She had harangued him for months about splitting his attention on this futility.
‘But it wasn’t futile,’ he reminded himself. He learned a lot with this effort. He learned how they thought, how they reacted. He learned about their operation. They had to let him get close enough for that. They wanted his defeat. They wanted him broken. To do that, they had to let him think he had a chance of winning. To make him think he had a chance, they had to bring him close, closer than they should have.
‘And now they think I’m broken,” he said. “Easy to beat a second time since they had such success this go round.” He smiled as he took another turn. The buildings fell away to open land as he drove and then trees began springing up, filling the empty space with larger and larger boles, their shimmering green softening the light and dimming the humiliation left over by his defeat.
“They don’t know,” he said to himself. That was the biggest secret he learned in this venture and it was worth twice the humiliation of the defeat. They thought they held all the cards, but they didn’t know they were being played. Not by him,. He knew he was a bit player in this over all drama. He just wanted to get what he came for and get out as quickly as possible. Information was his quick pass through the maze and information he now had. No matter how much they thought they knew, they didn’t know of the Osman corporation. He knew they would have mentioned it, let something slip if they had. But there was no inkling.
‘The defeat was worth it’, he thought philosophically. He had taken the humiliation and would go off where others would think he would stew in his humiliation. Instead he would work where they would never look for him. The Osman corporation and the gap in their knowledge was what would win him victory in the end.
Ten til Midnight 