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Richard Cory

It was a calm summer night. Richard Cory had just come back from doing a factory inspection. Everything had been fine, nothing was out of place. With no work to be done, it was a perfect evening for a barbecue. Richard Cory almost expected the towns-people to come ringing his doorbell with offerings of food and merriment. He stood in his kitchen for a while, waiting. Waiting to hear the sound of his underused doorbell. Waiting for the undeniable happiness he got whenever someone asked him to open his door. After ten minutes with the only sound being that of the crickets outside, Richard Cory left the kitchen and went over to his bar to get a drink. Then he sat in his chair and thought.

This is always what happened to Richard Cory, for he had no friends. Richard Cory had moved to the town about 10 years ago. He had recently graduate from college, majoring in business and political science. Despite also having a masters in finance, Richard Cory had still not found a job that suited him. After arguing with his parents over his lack of a job, he decided to move out.

When Richard Cory first found the town, it was on the brink of bankruptcy. It was an agricultural town, but had been experiencing a long drought. Most of the towns-people had already left, the few families that remained were either descendants of the founders of the town or, they were freelancing artists that enjoyed the peacefulness and landscape of the town.
Richard Cory knew he could save this town, he could feel it. He built a factory about a mile away from the town to make T-shirts, paintings and other souvenirs. He planned to turn the town and the surrounding area into a major tourist site. After a few years, the town began to prosper, and Richard Cory soon became very wealthy. The townspeople were very thankful to Richard Cory and admired him in every aspect of his being. Considering him to be almost god-like, they elected him mayor of the newly prosperous town.

For a while after his election, Richard Cory would go out among the people and mingle. The townspeople always greeted him cheerfully, but as time went on they became more and more distant Richard Cory did not know how to connect with people, a fault he had since childhood. While Richard Cory was always willing to listen to someone’s problem, worry or dream, and everyone had great respect for him, the townspeople felt uncomfortable around him. Richard Cory’s visits to the town soon started becoming less and less frequent. Eventually, he left his house only for the monthly factory inspections. Occasionally a visitor would stop by his house to drop off food, or a present to show their appreciation for some kind gesture he had made for the community. Yet as the years went on he became more and more isolated, more and more alone. Neither his money nor his position was enough to stop his downward spiral to complete and utter loneliness. No one could have imagined his inner life was so tormented for he had never revealed any of this to anyone.

Although Richard Cory never married, he lived in a beautiful house with a perfect yard, located in the best part of town. He was able to appreciate the finer things in life, wearing the highest quality clothes, and ate only the finest imported foods. From the outside his life looked perfect, no one could have guessed the dire depths of despair that Richard Cory had fallen into. The unsuspecting townspeople were astonished when his body was found on a summer morning after Richard Cory had gone home and put a bullet through his head.



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