That's why the boy was walking in the woods that early morning. He wasn't going to fish, for he was wearing his best suit. His best suit, though, was his only suit: a faded navy blue with missing cufflinks and a royal blue patch on the right knee. It was, of course, his father's old best suit, and the boy had to roll up the pants legs several times to avoid tracking them through the mud.
Thankfully, the banker's house wasn't too far away, and he reached their yard just as the birds began chirping. It was a beautiful yard, with perfectly trimmed hedges and roses of every color in bloom. Much to his surprise, a gardener was already hard at work: trimming the sod and laying mulch atop the lily bed.
The dirt pathway turned to stone as the boy pushed open the gate and shuffled up to the door. A fence encased the house and a fairly decent sized yard, but the size of the house made the boy wonder if all the neighboring forest belonged to this man, and he just rented it out to the city of Varrock to make roadways. The boy smiled as he imagined the type of wages they could give him.
When he reached the front door - an intimidating one made solely of mahogany with, possibly, a gilded doorknob - the first thing he did was knock timidly, but then he remembered he was there for a job interview, and he knocked again, much more coragously this time.
What would they think of him? A boy in a suit at least three sizes too big with poorly combed hair, a spot of dirt on his nose, and three chin hairs he'd missed while he was shaving earlier. He felt his chin. The chin hairs were hardly noticeable, but he had them. He told himself men grew beards, not boys. He was a man - almost - and men get jobs as bank-owners' assitants. He mustn't worry.
10-Jan-2010 16:53:54
- Last edited on
10-Jan-2010 21:02:26
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