The Last Economic Superpower: The Retreat of Globalization, the End of American Dominance, and What We Can Do About It

The Last Economic Superpower: The Retreat of Globalization, the End of American Dominance, and What We Can Do About It

by Joseph P. Quinlan
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Last Economic Superpower: The Retreat of Globalization, the End of American Dominance, and What We Can Do About It 4.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
It's been exactly a month since my mom died. My mom. Nobody can believe it, and nobody probably ever will. But it's not like she can just die- like out of a sudden- is it? Before she died, however, she gave me a diary. 'To write in it each day,' she said. 'For me. I always wanted to keep a diary, but never got down to it.' And that I did. Every day. <br> Somehow I never cried about it. I didn't cry about my dog dying some years ago, didn't cry when my mom died a month ago, but I cried when Lently died. <br><bt> Lently is a goldfish. A cool one, too. He was a beautiful golden color with a black-tipped fin, and a white heart by his eye. <br> I only had him for about a week before he died. And it hurt me to see him floating on the top of his bowl. I sat back and cried. Just cried, bevause I never got a second chance, and nobody ever will. <br><br> We dumped Lently in the lake near our house. I watched him fall, watched the little golden bit carried away by the current. Then I walked home, and continued life as usual. I collasped onto my bed, and reached for my book- Poems of Frost R1-3 - but a piece of paper slid out. <br><br> Maybe 'paper' isn't the best word to describe it. It was more like textured, shiny... scales. And those special scales was a print of a goldfish, with a black tipped fin and a white heart by its eye. My hand shook as I inspected it, and I double-checked the book cover. <br> It wasn't Poems of Frost. It was my diary. I never once put that scaley bookmark in there. And- if it was my mother, how could she of known? She was dead a week before Aunt Yen gave him to me. I flipped the paper back and forth. On the other side, there was Lently. Again. <br> I even checked my diary. Nothing unusual. I checked the fish again. But this time, I saw something. <br> In the golden scales. Written in a color a little darker that strained my eyes to read. WHERE DID YOU GET THE NAME LENTLY? It was written on scales with a handwriting scarily similar to mine. Perhaps I had vague memory loss and it was me who did all these things. <br> I glanced at the fish scales on the other side. Nothing. <br> Then I though back to the question. Where DID I get the name Lently? I hadn't really thought about that. I just took one look at it, and suddenly knew his name was Lently. <br> This fruserated me. I stared at the scaley fish for longer before proceeding to toss the fish bookmark into the trash bin. I opened to the first page of Poems of Frost, unrealising t was STILL my diary. But something caught my ey e. <br><br> To: Winter Lauren Walsh <br> From: Chiuchu Lently 'Kai' Kao Chen <br> But my mothers name couldn't be Lently. Most Asians didn't have a middle name, unless <br><br> Want more? Comment your opinion!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Still really great!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago