1690 c/o Benjamin Judge

We Made Money

 

It turns out you can take it with you. Whatever you are buried with you wake up with on the other side. It makes for an interesting afterlife. Egyptians, Vikings, one or two kings; everyone else is trailer trash.

I am nouveau riche. An avalanche, on a black diamond run on Jiminy Peak, buried me alive with my credit cards in my pocket. They still work. The machines here are dusty with lack of use, but hum kindly when I insert my PIN.

I am buying up as much as I can. When spring thaws the snow, and they find my body, you can bet they will empty my pockets and put me in my best suit before they bury me again. I will be just another smartly dressed pauper. My good fortune is only temporary.