Kamal came to a stop and stared at Bloomingdales. I had forgotten that he had lived most of his tender years in a small village in Sudan. The sight of mighty Chicago must have been extreme culture shock.
“Awe inspiring, isn’t it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, I just realized what I had been missing about America.”
“In all cultures, people build monuments to their religion, to their gods.”
“And they always ensure that the most important gods have the most important structures.”
“The greatest god in America must be money.”
I couldn’t disagree.
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Word count = 100