The City Of Millionaires

The City Of Millionaires

I, like all of us in my city, have a million dollars, and this makes life perfect for us. It makes life easy since we can all afford just about anything we want. Of course, we don’t ever actually spend any of our money. Just knowing that we have it is enough. We simply tell each other that we know we have our million dollars, and that makes the other people cater to the other person’s every whim.

Because we’re all millionaires in this city, all the people who run things are millionaires. Only a millionaire knows how a fellow millionaire should and does behave. So, the laws of this city are based only on the lifestyle of millionaires. As a true millionaire, there’s absolutely no way you’re breaking any of the laws.

We all have our million dollars in a lot of different denominations. Some have 5 dollar notes, some 20, some 1, and some have 100 dollar notes. A certain few even have only pennies, but in the end, the conclusion for us all is that each person has a total of a million dollars.

It’s a nice day, so I decide to take a drive. While I’m cruising, I’m feeling immense gratitude to my million dollars because what would I be without it? I wouldn’t even be able to afford this car, and that means I wouldn’t be able to take this drive right now.

I look out the window for a bit, and I notice a man who looks very poor. Very wretched. He looks like he doesn’t have a home, so I stop right next to him and ask why he looks so poor. He tells me he really doesn’t have a home or even food to eat because he can’t afford anything. He says he doesn’t have a million dollars, so he can’t buy anything in this city.

What I’m hearing is so outrageous, I get down from my car to speak to him properly. It’s so surprising. I had no idea such people lived in this city. I used to assume everyone knew they had their million dollars in whatever denomination. We’re even taught that growing up. We’re told, right from childhood, that everyone is some sort of millionaire because you can’t live a life without a million dollars. In fact, we learn that we wouldn’t exist without our million dollars. So, meeting this man who says he doesn’t have a million dollars is so confusing. Was he not taught about his fortune?

“I don’t think anyone truly has a million dollars.” He says. “Look around you. Nobody ever brings out any money to spend. You all just reiterate to each other that you’re millionaires.”

“Of course! And as soon as they hear that, they know.” I try to explain how it works to him.

I’m starting to think he’s not from around here.

“I’m pretty sure you’re a millionaire as well since you’re in this city. Everyone in this city is. If you just say it too, people would know and you could afford yourself a home and some food.”

“But I don’t believe I’m a millionaire. I don’t believe anyone is. A million dollars is an absurd amount of money, so I don’t think anyone has it. I don’t believe it exists.” He speaks with confidence.

“No, you’re the one who’s absurd!” I chuckle uncomfortably at his ignorance.

How can someone be so detrimentally ignorant?

“I have a million dollars. Everyone in this city does.” I tell him.

“How do you know that?” He sounds genuinely curious.

Now I know I have his attention and can convert him to the millionaire he is.

“Look at me? All the things I have? All the things I can do? And, of course, most importantly, I’ve seen the money in my account balance…”

“Okay, then show me.” He interjects.

I’m confused. No one has ever asked to see an account balance. In this city, we all just know we all have a million dollars. We can see it working for our good. It’s intentional and never fails.

“I can’t show you my account balance. That’s not how things work…”

“Or you just don’t have a million dollars.” He interrupts me again.

I’m slowly getting sick and tired of him having so much to say while he knows absolutely nothing about how fortune works.

“If you had a million dollars, you’d be able to show me your account balance. I can’t tell people I have a million dollars because I’ve never seen anything in my account balance…”

“That’s because you don’t even believe the money’s there in the first place.” It’s my turn to cut in. “You have to first believe in your heart and confess with your mouth that the million dollars are in your account and can help you afford everything. As soon as you believe you have the money, it’ll reflect in your account balance.” I explain.

“Well, you believe the money’s in your account, right?” He asks.

“Of course!”

“Then show me your account balance.”

“You don’t need to see my account balance! You can see it in everything I own. In my car, my mansion, my iPhone. In fact, everything in this city is proof that everyone has their million dollars! How else do you think all the expensive things in this city could be afforded?” My voice starts to rise.

Why is he being so obtuse?

“I just want to see your account balance. That’s the only thing I’ll accept as proof.”

“What is your obsession with my account balance?” I’m disgusted at the entitlement of this stranger.

“Well, that’s where all the money is, right? So that’s proof, and I just want to see proof.”

“Well, you prove that I don’t have a million dollars then! Prove that a million dollars is too absurd an amount of money for anyone to have! If you can’t see everyone’s million dollars at work in this city, then prove that we don’t actually have any money!” I only realise I’m yelling after I’m done

“I don’t have proof of that.” He says quietly.

“Aha!” I exclaim.

I kiss my teeth, get back in my car and drive off. I don’t know why I even bothered.

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