A man I have known for a few months looks me over quietly, then announces that he thinks I must be a secret millionaire.
He explains that he has come to this conclusion because of my manner; my comportment. According to him, I don’t seem like someone worried about anything; I appear fearless, as a man who cannot be bought, or otherwise shifted from his convictions by graft.
This brings to my mind another man who had the habit of referring to me as “Rich Man” whenever we ran into each other in public. His reasoning was that most people who have a lot carry themselves as though they have very little. He pointed out that I do not wear jewelry or clothing that can draw attention to myself. The brand of my shoes and bag are not readily noticeable.
I am not rich, or a millionaire.
…and my price is Justice.