With his deep brown eyes, he was gazing at the arrangements in the main hall. He was talking in a gentle manner. He was dressed up in a very baroque oriented style. Hence, I would say that… nothing was there that could differentiate him from other human beings. And… the hall where all these rich people were gathered had nothing special or luxurious about it.
At the moment, I was unable to resist myself from having a conversation with him as he was sitting next to him.
Me (Richard): are you the one who is running the oil business?
Him (Mr. Anthony Salvatore): yes...
Me: it means... you are a billionaire? (As I cannot trust my eyes)
Me: how many pounds of food you usually eat for the breakfast?
Him: pounds…? Are you joking..? I eat half egg, an apple and a cup of low-fat coffee.
Mr. Anthony Salvatore was looking at me innocently and in a bit shocked manner.
Me: okay… that’s surprising… Well… I want you to be honest with me with all your words. Tell me how often do you eat in a day?
Him: I eat thrice in a day and I usually take brunch in the noon... and I always end up my food with fresh fruits after that a mug of black coffee and... A cigar... It increased my amazement, and I suddenly started asking him a question again Me: so where does all of your money go? And what do you do with that money? Him: well… gentleman! I make more money with that money. Analysis of a Perception of a Billionaire.
Works CitedWayne, Teddy. Eight Rules for Writing Fiction. 6 June 2013. Web. 17 October 2014 <http://www.newyorker.com/humor/daily-shouts/eight-rules-for-writing-fiction>.
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