I went for a ride through the park and saw how beautiful the flowers looked castagainst the snow, then came back for dinner with the orchestra. My, what a lovelynight that was, as I sat back, drinking my champagne, listening to the beautifulmusic among all of the beautiful people, not feeling at all out of place in my purple. “This is what all the world was fighting for...this is what the struggle was all about,” I thought. At that moment, I wasn’t sure I had ever heard of Cordelia Street, letalone lived there among the ugliness. I felt like this was what I was born for,having the money to enjoy the finer things of life. I truly enjoyed them.After eight days of drinking, music, and socializing with some of the finestpeople I had ever met, the Pittsburgh papers revealed that I had been found out. My father had repaid the money I stole and was on his way to retrieve me andtorment me in some or many ways, I’m sure of it. I “had not a hundred dollars leftand knew now, more than ever, that money was everything.” The power andfreedom that I had enjoyed for what seemed like a lifetime now, was running outalong with my money. But I had looked fear in the face and won. I decided beforeI took this adventure that I wasn’t going back. Last night I even bought a pistol,and not very long ago thought of using the ugly thing to end my life. Instead I goton the train to Newark, then took a cab for a ways toward Pennsylvania. I laiddown for a short nap and was awakened just in time to finish my dream, on myterms.I don’t remember the train hitting me, just the feeling of getting punched in thechest, flying through the air, and my limbs going numb. At that moment though,right before the darkness swallowed me, I knew I had lived, if only for a little while,I had really lived. Paul's Case by Willa Cather...
