The richest man in the world looked out across the city. 'When I was your age,' he said to his grandson, 'the sky was blue and the sun was so bright you couldn't look at it . . .' But the boy could not know what he meant, for now there was no blue sky, and, worst of all, no sun. The earth was covered with a pall of yellow fog like an old blanket and no one had seen the sun for twenty years. The richest man in the world decided he had to feel its warmth one last time . . .
