Copyright ©1998, Christine
A perfect Greek man marks time and crumbles under the weight of all man's history of work. My father lost his life to duty and taught us to do the same. I watch the procession of exhausted lives. Our efforts, hostage to money and outside approval, each enslaved worker bullies the next. I am afraid of ending up on top of that pile of crushed cars, part of the monument to the nation's dead.