Saving the World - One Word at a Time
It’s almost 1am on a cold, rainy night.
A small banker’s lamp sits atop a dilapidated desk, illuminating a small corner of an abandoned warehouse near the docks.
Typing away is a man burdened with slinging copy for a mysterious philanthropic entrepreneur – who is convinced she can change the world with her breakthrough method for growing organic food…
…more than enough food for everyone.
He looks like ****…
…His days-long unshaven face, dark under-eye circles and frantic hair are testaments to his dedication for completing this project – no matter what the cost to his body.
A cigarette burns from the side of his mouth and a cold cuppa joe taunts him with promised energy.
He can’t reach for the cup…
…too much time would be wasted.
The consequences of telling people about ending extreme hunger – forever – keeps his fingers firmly attached to the keyword and his butt strapped to the chair.
The food lobbyists are lying in waiting to debunk this untold method.
“Who tipped them off?” he’s wondering
“Dammit!” he shrugs
“Doesn’t matter.” he declares
This solution will change the world…
…and he knows that each-word-matters.
A briefcase of hundred dollar bills sits upright on the side of the desk.
He doesn’t even know how much is in there.
It’s enough.
It’s got to be…
…The world needs to know.
But who should this message be broadcasted to?
Who has the ears to hear?
Who has the eyes to see?
Headline: Why the Government Can’t Afford to End Extreme Hunger in the United States.
“No, no, no… The bugger hasn’t got any teeth!” he screams out
“It’ll go right over their heads…” he says as he wipes the sweat off his clammy brow
“…it’s too conspiracy theory…”
How can he grab the reader by the throat and make them demand that every government in the world subsidize this technology?
How can he ensure that nobody ever has to die again for lack of food in their belly…
…The night isn’t getting any younger!
A small banker’s lamp sits atop a dilapidated desk, illuminating a small corner of an abandoned warehouse near the docks.
Typing away is a man burdened with slinging copy for a mysterious philanthropic entrepreneur – who is convinced she can change the world with her breakthrough method for growing organic food…
…more than enough food for everyone.
He looks like ****…
…His days-long unshaven face, dark under-eye circles and frantic hair are testaments to his dedication for completing this project – no matter what the cost to his body.
A cigarette burns from the side of his mouth and a cold cuppa joe taunts him with promised energy.
He can’t reach for the cup…
…too much time would be wasted.
The consequences of telling people about ending extreme hunger – forever – keeps his fingers firmly attached to the keyword and his butt strapped to the chair.
The food lobbyists are lying in waiting to debunk this untold method.
“Who tipped them off?” he’s wondering
“Dammit!” he shrugs
“Doesn’t matter.” he declares
This solution will change the world…
…and he knows that each-word-matters.
A briefcase of hundred dollar bills sits upright on the side of the desk.
He doesn’t even know how much is in there.
It’s enough.
It’s got to be…
…The world needs to know.
But who should this message be broadcasted to?
Who has the ears to hear?
Who has the eyes to see?
Headline: Why the Government Can’t Afford to End Extreme Hunger in the United States.
“No, no, no… The bugger hasn’t got any teeth!” he screams out
“It’ll go right over their heads…” he says as he wipes the sweat off his clammy brow
“…it’s too conspiracy theory…”
How can he grab the reader by the throat and make them demand that every government in the world subsidize this technology?
How can he ensure that nobody ever has to die again for lack of food in their belly…
…The night isn’t getting any younger!