On the third floor, I sat looking at the splendid view of the sixth hour in the morning. I could see the construction of a skyscraper that is supposed to be a publishing agency.
“I’ve warned you, Frank. I guess that your blood always serves a thick skull…” My friend continued on the phone, “Watch the news…” In fact, I wasn’t shocked. It was more of a comfort for an old man, who had imagined the worst.
“The kid of southern estate caught in the highway of…” Said a guy on TV, with rhythm.
“I think that there should be a trial for inheritance. This is..” A debate among the scholars. I knew that my days are numbered and my only grandkid would live the rest of the riches in ten years.
Upon the sun rising from the east, the golden light reflected from the third floor of the agency. He knew that it is impossible to change the kid and clever enough to figure out that he wouldn’t be alive to see the result. With the slightest ray of hope, he took a pen and started to write a letter.
‘To the most dedicated editor on the third floor,
I write this on the day of 2005, to reach you at 2015. I could see people working to construct your building. They even started little early on this morning. I hate to waste your time and also, I don’t have a habit to take favors.
I bought some shares for you in exchange that you find my grandkid and if he’s alive, I want you to change his lifestyle. I tried all the ways I could and on this morning, I thought to give you a story to edit. The remaining information to acquire the ownership of the shares will be found in the progress of your mission. I wish you with all my heart and a great fortune.
Thank you for reading…