The War Stage

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“How much do you know about how money really works?”

She shrugged. “I’m sure very little, compared to you.”

He nodded. “You are not alone. Most people don’t know very much about what happens to their money after they place it in the bank. Or how it is valued. Many people today who live in first world countries — especially you Americans — have never even experienced the terror of rapid inflation.”

She placed a recording device on the table and pressed the button with a red circle. She asked, “Do you mind if I begin?”

“Do we need to record this?” He squirmed in his chair.

The reporter looked at him. She sat in a small wooden chair across from him at the room’s only table. Her legs were crossed and her skirt parted just above her knee. She was pretty. Long black hair. Big, beautiful eyes. The kind you saw on billboards, staring back at you when you crossed the street.

“It would help me to make sure I don’t misquote you.” A polite smile. Her voice melodic.

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