Made on
Tilda
On his left screen, the was plummeting—it would eventually close down nearly 5%, its worst day in over a year. On his center screen, Bitcoin—the digital gold that was supposed to be a hedge against chaos—was proving to be anything but. It had shed thousands of dollars in hours, dragging the entire crypto market down with it.
"Everything is on sale," he mused, "if you have the stomach for it." Viernes Negro (2021)
"It’s happening again," Elias whispered to his empty room. On his left screen, the was plummeting—it would
Elias reached for his mouse to sell, his finger hovering over the button. But then, he paused. He looked at the charts. This wasn't 2020. The world had vaccines now; it had systems. He watched the "Fear & Greed Index" peg itself into extreme terror. He didn't sell. Instead, he closed his laptop. "Everything is on sale," he mused, "if you
Elias watched his portfolio value evaporate. To many, "Viernes Negro" was about discounts at stores, but for investors, the "discount" felt like a trap. The fear wasn't just about a virus; it was about the unknown. Would the borders close again? Would the supply chains, already strained like a piano wire, finally snap?