The chilly wind of spring flushed across my body in the middle of the night and I wouldn’t have noticed the misfortune that had befallen father if I hadn’t heard the deep-throated noise of father throwing up by the corner. He was throwing profusely.My lip curled.At the time my eyes burnt with unsatisfied sleep as I rubbed my eyes to confirm my sight. It was actually father, even when I dared to doubt the figure throwing up in the dark a contrary voice said otherwise.“Father! Father!” I called as I peered at him while I advanced to the corner. “Father! Are you there?” Horror hung over me as I wondered if he was going to spew out his intestines; the throwing up couldn’t stop and didn’t seem like something that would stop soon.It was still late and the entire dark silent street churned my imagination. It was obvious father had caught the flu. For more than two months we had slept out in the cold; the spring and rain fell on us; the dew had our frail, skin as its destination. I stare

Rio Hondo Bridge would be the perfect site for suicide. I had heard of Rio Hondos that committed quietly suicide on the bride and never survived the strokes. It was the tallest bridge in the southeast Rio.Measuring over fifty thousand meters vertically and running into the depth of the ocean with over fifty thousand meters, it would take the expertise of talented divers to find the corpse of anyone that fell therein. And that was the perfect site for me. I didn’t want anyone to discover my corpse. I wondered who would be interested in the corpse of a poor delivery jaded boy that breathed misery.No one knew my intention. Once father’s corpse was deposited at the morgue, I quietly sneaked out and started making towards the Rio Hondo Bridge. I wasn’t scared of death, and I didn’t think any of us were scared of death; we were only scared of the strokes of death.These strokes of suicide were going to be peaceful, gentle, hidden and unmemorable. I wasn’t a good swimmer so falling over a

Steve marks drove me to a towering sky scraper which had around it hundreds of well-suited Caucasian cute-looking men most of whom were on sunshades. I perceived they were security men. As soon as Steve Marks came to a screeching halt a few of the men paced down to the Ferrari opened the door for me and bowed unison.“You are highly welcome boss,” they echoed at Steve and I and I glared around the serene premises which had fleets of Lamborghini Ferrari Rolls Royce phantom and Cadillac and a private jet elegantly scattered all over the place.This was my perfect description of wealth; how could a man so rich be bowing to me. There must be a miss up somewhere. May be this billionaire was mistaking for someone else; yes. It could be that he thought I was some Croesus or heir to one.“You are welcome to the Steve Group, boss,” he echoed smiled at me and I gave him the cold shoulders because I was lost and overwhelmed by the splendor of the environment; it had a water fall and an ocean vie

Of a truth Saint Don was hugely gutted with Steve Marks. He actually wanted us to while away our time at the yacht and return home without seeing him. I didn’t know about Steve but I was losing my patience to see a man I never thought of seeing let alone call him father.He gave out stringent protocol to his aides and security not to let us in. Being a smarter mogul , Steve Marks had to refill the visitors’ form in a psedoname, which he, Saint Don wouldn’t recognize.While I waited outside Steve finally had the golden opportunity to go into his luxurious five star cabin.“You swine!” he cursed Steve Marks upon setting his eyes on him. “What are you doing here, Steve? Who permitted you to gain access to me?”From outside I could hear his voice beam and groan my heart. I could imagine the peril and wrath on his face and the pillar of fire in his eyes.“Security! Security !” Saint Don called radically …I swallowed hard, as my heart rebounded. I wondered what would be the fate of his off

I was too unkempt and ragged for Saint Don’s liking. First we had a grand tour of his State of the Art’s villa which had its surfaces and fittings made of gold and diamond. His villa was more than classic that I lacked words in its exactitude to describe the splendor.We were at the garage and I was overwhelmed by the fleets of Rolls Royce Phantom, Armored Bentley Ferrari, Lamborghini, Austin Martin, private jets all in their innumerable amount. He had an ocean of luxury cars that I wondered if he was into automobiles business.He pointed across them and added, “They are all yours, my son.”I pinched myself in surprise as I gave an appreciative nod, and smiled hugely. Saint Don had over five hundred domestic staff and a thousand close staff that domiciled in the villa. His State of the Arts villa had everything that could take one outside to get. He had medicals; temples; grocery mall; gaming; boutique; barbers shop and security unit mounted at the villa.I sat down honorably while t