Tony the Dreamer

"Here you go, Mr. Tony. This is your card." Harry handed Tony's black-and-gold card back to him.

Tony took it and casually slipped it into his pocket. "You definitely didn't charge anything to my card, did you?"

"How did you know, Mr. Tony?" Harry asked in surprise.

Tony smiled. "I guessed. Now it's confirmed."

"Okay."

Harry felt a little helpless. He had acted so well, but adults simply had too many tricks up their sleeves.

"Are we eating here, or going home to eat?" Harry asked.

"Let's go home." Tony took the bag. "Eating here would be too shabby. I prefer a sense of ceremony."

"Even eating pizza needs a sense of ceremony? Besides, rich people like pizza too? I thought you ate all kinds of delicacies every day, all kinds of..."

Having never lived the life of a rich person, Harry could not come up with anything specific.

"Pizza is so delicious. Why wouldn't anyone like pizza?" Tony asked with a smile.

"Rich people are people too. We're not all that different. Appetite is one of the easiest ways for humans to find satisfaction."

"People with money have their way of living, and people without money have theirs. We're all doing our best to live."

For some reason, whenever Tony started talking to Harry about the bigger truths in life, he just could not stop. He casually rattled off all sorts of motivational platitudes until Harry's head was spinning. They sounded right, yet somehow also wrong, but he could not explain why.

"Mr. Tony, this is my home."

Tony and Harry chatted easily and happily all the way, and soon arrived at Harry's front door. It was a standard American detached two-story wooden house, rented by Harry's mother. Their family did not yet have the money to buy a