tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41126284227550503162011-04-21T20:36:20.487-07:00MirrorCraxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05502449714576512332noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4112628422755050316.post-8104678201938344792007-08-24T04:46:00.002-07:002007-12-28T22:27:58.821-08:00Friday Morning - Sun is up, and the streets have the occasional sounds of bicycles and street vendors passing by, he woke up early today, as he always did, i feel pity for the boy, all other boys his age go out and have fun and enjoy themselves, but he's too much of a good boy, always silent, always watching, rarely shouting or screaming.<br /><br />I work for the little kid's father in the grocery shop they own, i organize the store, i buy stuff for the store and i deliver to people's houses, but i'm not meant to be a grocery shop boy for the rest of my life, this is just a temporary job till i finish my diploma, after which i'll get a desk job, and wear a suit everyday to work and have a nice house, where i call the grocery shop and have them deliver butter, jam and toast to my front door.<br /><br />back to the little kid, for some reason i felt an urge to study that little boy, and what strengthened this interest was the school paper they asked of us, they asked us to prepare a paper on what it's like to be a boy, and it struck me right away, why not prepare the paper on my boss's son, he's a boy and a pretty peculiar one, if i may add.<br /><br />and this is how it began....<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4112628422755050316-810467820193834479?l=boyansee.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>MirrorCraxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05502449714576512332noreply@blogger.com0