#7 Rich Man Blues (300 words)

Inspired by: Poor Boy Blues

Ein drove along the highway, hoping Reginald would eventually provide some directions. They hadn’t said a word to each other since their argument on the road.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m quite wealthy.”

“I did.”

“Old money.”

“Like Jon Fall?”

“No, his family was rich before they even came to this continent. It’s Maryland I’m sure you can imagine where my fortune came from.”

Ein didn’t guess. 

“Tobacco. I hate the stuff, but I can’t imagine where I’d be without it.”

It began to rain, and Reginald looked at the raindrops running down the window wistfully. 

“Are we going to some business meeting?” 

“No,” he said his voice sounded sad, “This is something else.” 

A few dozen miles later, Reginald said, “Do you know what it’s like to grow up incredibly wealthy?”

Ein shook his head and said, “no.” 

“It’s lonely. People want to be with you all the time, but they just want to be in proximity to your wealth. They’d do anything you say if you might give them a glimpse of it. I didn’t have a normal adolescence. 

“I never got into any trouble. I could never sneak out and try to go to a bar while underage. My home had a bar, and I was served whatever I wanted.” 

“I never snuck out.”  

“I never learned how to scam a free phone call.” 

“Me, either.” 

“I’ve never been wanted by the police. Once I gave away a diamond ring on a first date. She thought I was proposing and accepted! We just met.”

Ein kept his focus on the road as the rain grew heavier. 

“Anyway, I had one friend in this world. Never wanted anything from me, and I felt the same.”

“Are we visiting them?”

“Sort of, their funeral.”

Published by einquin

Writing personal exploration flash fiction as well as building the foundations for a comic book universe.

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