“You and your friends want to go on a road trip, huh?” Kate asked her son Jared, who beamed that teenage, excited, naive grin.
“Yeah, you know, after graduation. To celebrate! Stu has a car, so he’ll be driving.”
Continue reading
Gretta stood in position by the conveyor belt and readied herself to grab the next cardboard box that reached her. She snatched it and pulled it toward her so it rested partially on the metal shoulder that ran along the belt. Inside the box, an eclectic collection of purchased items sat beneath a printout of the customer’s order. Gretta rummaged through the items—with care—to ensure everything paid for had been inserted by a picker.
Ms. Mount had a simple workspace at her business’s headquarters, which were located in a small building with a simple layout. Most people in a position like hers—owning and operating a multibillion-dollar company—worked in the middle of the city, sitting in plush chairs in spacious, dedicated corner offices in skyscraping towers. She abstained from all of that.
By David Armstrong
Jack hated pollution. He went to great lengths to avoid pollution in his daily life. Jack tried to eliminate pollution in the food he ate, the water he drank, and even the air he breathed. What began as a general concern became something of an obsession.
In a vast wilderness, amid mountainous steppes, a bristlecone pine stood on a partially bald ridge. Its roots grasped the rocky soil where few other things could grow, and its branches reached outward as if with benevolent intent.
The Weekly Parable 