9 Chickweed Lane by Brooke McEldowney for June 08, 2007
Total: At 50th Street, Edda veered into Rockefeller Center where she sat among a pod of feeding executives. However, though she was in their midst, they did not recognize her. She lacked their coloration, their scent. They spoke past her - through her - to each other. They confabbed about acquisitions, about absorption, reorganization, sales; about opening their giant, serrate-toothed, corporate maws and swallowing smaller beings with smaller, blunter-toothed, corporate maws. Theirs was the real world, hard-nosed, important, unflinching. Hers lacked a bottom line.