Christian Adams Vanderbilt
My eyes wander over the city of Seattle, where the sounds of cars glide over the asphalt still damp from the light rain that fell a short while ago. The sky is heavy and cloudy, as usual, and the lights of the skyscrapers reflect on Elliott Bay, turning the waters into a mirror of vibrant colors. The city pulses below me, alive, fast-paced, indifferent to my presence.
I am in my office, at the top of one of the most imposing buildings in the area. The panoramic view stretches through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and from here I can see every detail of the metropolis, every movement on the streets, every fragment of urban life unfolding at a frenetic pace.
Observing the city below me, I see people walking hurriedly, engaged in their own daily battles. Some
