A Brazilian Sugar Mill
by Dominic Carew
SIT at my desk at the
investment bank on the seventeenth floor, which may as well be the moon for all
the contact we have with the real world here, while below, on the street, a din
surges. “Cookies? Does anyone want cookies? We’re going to buy cookies.” I order
two white chocolate and macadamia cookies. One for now, one for tonight after
dinner. ...READ MORE