Masta Killa A set of keys has been scraped all along the new red paintwork. Masta Killa looks up and then down the street to see if there were any witnesses or suspects. "What kind of person does these things? I mean seriously. Come on." He is too tired to be angry. It is 4AM and he has to be at the airport for a 6 o'clock flight to Paris. He is excited about the flight and has not slept all night. This will be his first trip to Paris. He rests a half full cup of coffee on top of the car, one of those chrome travel mugs that commuting businessmen use. Masta Killa tells himself that he is a businessman. "I am such a businessman. I am so rich. I will just get this painted again, so what. Blue next time. And then next week green and then back to blue. That will be good." Masta Killa gets into the scratched red car and starts the engine. He pulls away from the curb and drives south towards the airport. He remembers a time before he was an experienced and accomplished businessman. Friends from college were starting out in their careers and seemed to find work a lot easier than Masta Killa did, but when he started his internship at the investment firm he took to it pretty quickly. He was investing stuff left, right and center. He made one big investment which was considered to be the best investment that any of his graduating class had ever made. Thinking about the past energises Masta Killa and he feels wide awake for the first time. Then he realises that he left the travel coffee mug on the roof of the scratched car. He pulls over slowly hoping not to disturb the mug. Masta Killa opens the car door and gets out but the travel coffee mug is gone. "Damn. That mug could be anywhere between here and home. Forget it. I'll buy a new one at the airport." <<<<<<<<<<          >>>>>>>>>>