When They Were At The Helm

I'm imagining a board room. Long mahogany table, dark paneled walls. Spectacular view of the metropolis out floor-to-ceiling windows with the sun shining against a clear, blue sky. Cold water in crystal glasses. People sitting in leather chairs wearing expensive clothes. Flashy watches. Fancy phones.

These are the best. These are the brightest. They come from the right families. They went to the right schools. They know the right people. From their positions high above the city streets, they pull the strings. Their words move mountains.

But the enterprise has gone astray. The ship has gone off course. And the problem is, that no one knows what course it is on. Worse, they don't know where the navigation equipment is. Yet worse, none of them will admit that they haven't the faintest idea what to do.

That's what I'm imagining. And I'm wondering what they will tell their grandchildren about the ship that wrecked when they were at the helm.

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