“Fall of the King … he is no more the richest man in the country.”
The scrolling marquee at the bottom of the television screen is less important than the stock market crash being discussed with shocked expressions.
I pull out my cheap Chinese phone to text him.
“Remember how we played chess on a tablecloth, with whatever was available in summer afternoons. Well, the chips may have fallen but you still have your mates….
Now, don’t ask how did I get your number. I’m not asking you for a job, just offering an ear if you wish to talk.”