Book3:WereMyDreamIs (第195/327页)

n’tsleepmuight…Don’tevenwanttomove,soIwilljusttakeanaphere.”Helookedatthemagnifitandgrandiosebuildingacrossthestreetandsaidsleepily,“ThemostpracticalwouldbetogetwhatIdputtheWorldBankintomybrainstoweaveafabulousdream.Idoothinkofanythingelse.”Sayingso,heydownonthegroundandwassoonsnaway.DimitriseemedtobetalkingtothesleepingDavid,butheseemedmoretobetalkingtohimself,

    “Younotonlyputthatmagnifitandgrandiosebuildingacrossthestreetintoyourbrains,youputthewholeworldtheretoo.Youevenputthewholeuniverseintoyourbrain.Thenyouwillrealizethattimeandspaotexistanymoreahingisequaltozero.”Iling,flourishiropolis,pedestrianswerebusilygoingabouttheirownbusiness.Noonewouldpauseorpaytheleastattentiontothetwodirtyandraggedhomelesspersons,oingandonesleeping.Ifthissocietywereahugeandprecisemae,thesetwohoboswouldbetheuselessdiscardsandwastematerialitproduced.

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    TheflowingcrowdofpeoplehustledandbustledaboutswarmingintotheBARTstatioerwaveandsurgingoutjustasbusily.Imaginationaivitystoodhandinhandamongthecrowd,lookingattheseaofhumanfaces,wwhichweretheoheycouldpick.ItwasCreativity‘ssharpeyesthatcaughtsightoftheirtarget.ShesqueezedImagination’shand,threwhimawarninggndsaid,

    “WhatdoyouthinkofthatothegateoftheBARTstation,therewasamiddle-agedmaninhisfiftiesholdingabriefcase,alkingtowardstheparkinglot.Hewaslydressed.Hischiseledfeatureswereclearcut,solemnandaloof,obviouslynotamarifledwith.“Doyouknowwhat’sinhisbriefcase?”askedCreativity.Imaginatioheold-fashionedbriefcase,hisx-raylikeeyespeingintoitsinteriorandresponded,

    “He’sawyer.Therearelotsoffilesinhissuitcase,allofthemmateriabouthistwhowasafamousathlete..Thatwasanoldcasethatexplodedontothesocialseyearsagoandcapturedtheattentionofthewholenation.Iteveosocialu,insurgendracialtension…Histwaseanaffairbetweenhiswife,whowas20yearsyouhanhe,andanothermanandinafitofjeale,killedthemboth.Theriedtomakearunforit,butwasstoppedattheborderbythepolidbroughtback.Alltheevidencepoiohisguilt.”

    “pehen?”askedCreativity.“Whatwastheverdict?Sincehekilledtwopeopleiionallyheshouldgetthedeathpenalty,right?”

    “No”repliedImaginationindignantly.“Notonlydidhehedeathpenalty,thejuryacquittedhimandhewasreleased!Wasn’tthateous?”

    “Really!”excimedCreativity.“Howcouldthatbe?”

    “Thedefendantwasafamousathleteandamulti-millionaire.Hecouldaffathertogetheragroupofthebestdefensewyersinthetryknownasthe“DreamTeam”.Thesewereoldhandsofthecourtroomandkneweverytrickofthetrade.Theywereexpertsatmaniputingthewandkneweveryloophole.Iheygotthemurdereroffscot-free.”

    “IfIwerethejudge”criedCreativityangrily“Iwouldthathappeninmycourt.Thisisanotherexampleofmiscarriageofjustice.ThesewyerswhomaketheirlivingmaniputingthewinsteadofupholdingitwillneverbeallowedtoeheKingdomofDreamsanddisturbthatbright,sereneparadiseoh.”Imaginationfrownedasifengrossedinthought.

    “You’ttarnishthewholeprofessioninonebroadstroke”heprotested.“Therearesomanywsandtheyaresoplicatedthataypersoncouldeasilybecaughtinitswebandnotknowhowtogetout.Thentheywouldbadlyhehelpofw