Originally posted by mikelom152. ____________________________________________
151. However Fritz was becoming more and more irrelevent at this stage as Sheila suddenly realised that Doyle was a symptom of her imaginary causes, her interiorities and her self-projected attitudes of untruth; rather than a cognitive choice with whom her running with was intended to last.
153. Sheila was alive in thinking; wanting to press this alternative she had taken into a different direction, perhaps evaluating in a projectivist world, to succeed in escaping her own slavism which her own genealogy had succeeded in projecting her own estimation of her master - to the point that even her unconcious now recognised it - 'she was missing her own legislation!'
Originally posted by mikelomHer mind escaped back to the days of a student trip to Paris, when she first met X, who amazingly went on to reach the second ballot for the race to become the President of France. In those days he had been kind and gentle to her. But, as she looked down at her mobile, she heard again the suspicious rustling of the wind as it had searched for her long ago among the elms of the Boulevard Rene Pogel. Dare she risk the phone taps which inevitably now followed X ?
153. Sheila was alive in thinking; wanting to press this alternative she had taken into a different direction, perhaps evaluating in a projectivist world, to succeed in escaping her own slavism which her own genealogy had succeeded in projecting her own estimation of her master - to the point that even her unconcious now recognised it - 'she was missing her own legislation!'
155. Ken scanned the dark conference room as he spoke. He wasn't sure if everyone understood the gravity of what he was saying. With the exception
of Doyle and Fritz, everyone seemed preoccupied within their own thoughts. Ken caught glimpses of their faces which were sporadically
illuminated by the flickers of the rapidly changing images beaming from the projector. Their faces betrayed their thoughts as if in some high stakes
poker game. But this was not poker, this was another game of Queens and Kings.
156. Ken would have to adjust, and use their own words in hopes of awakening his audiance from their internal conversations, thoughts, and preoccupations. The
whole checkered world was large, 19255 territories at the moment, and there was much to distract, but he had to first focus this team on the big picture,
the prime coordinate, board one. Because there, before it is all over, a dreaming King would be dead.
157. The Company had sent him to activate his Account just for this reason... and Ken was good at it. He looked right at Doyle, "Good decisions are made from
positions of strength," Ken's distinct voice echoed as the familiar icon consisting of a central point with eight bold radiating arrows beamed onto the screen.
He continued with the words he knew were tailored just for this audiance. Like Fritz, He could almost sense the electrochemical response cascading down the
neurons and arcing across the synapses in each brain in the room. "These decisions are often simple but seldom easy." he continued.
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158.Ken's phone now rang and the jolt brough everyone back to the meeting at hand. Doyle noted that the blood seemed to be draining from Ken's face. "What could it be?" thought Doyle. Ken put the phone down and looked at each and everyone present and in a muffled voice said," It's over...we've lost..the King is dead" There was stunned silence for a bit when all of a sudden Sheila got up and said "Long live the Queen, I'll call Liz and Fritz and give them the good news" "Good news" thought Ken " How could that possibly be good news?"
159. He began to speak softly now. The image changed on the screen. "In the coming tempo of days we must make our moves. We must consider all options. Make sacrifices.
Some of us the ultimate sacrifce." Ken looked at Shiela. He was her first... in more ways than one. You always own your first, but the opposite is true too, a
first always owns you.
160. Ken did not allow himself to indulge further in the thought that Shiela invoked in him. He was a professional. A Company Man. All that he did... well most
of what he did was in the service of the King. And what they all were about to do was in that same service. Ken resumed his methodical scan of the room.
The image changed on the screen.
161. At which point Elizabeth, feeling a little left out of the exchange, posed a new approach, "Why don't we give them what they want. Let them have our territories on the flank. Our fundamentals are still good. If we cover our critical points and attack directly, on their center, time will be on our side, even though we've made a few material sacrifices along the way. Strategically, we'll be gaining time and a better long term position.
162. Ben was fixated on Sheila, her profile, her new red stillettos, her her slender ankles, her perfect nose and lips, the wafting hint of designer lable perfume, her neck, then as she turns a little, a glimpse of her eyes, a momentary eye contact, was she there, now, with him? would they be together later, maybe just after the meeting? what if he dared to touch her elbow, right now, in the middle of the meeting. She turned the leaf of the page and he caught her wrist and felt his pulse race. the room grew brighter. the presentation disappeared.