The realization of a man that life changes over time, and that all things that go around come around and how your worst enemies can become your best friends

Ahh, up bright and early on Saturday morning. Nothing shell a good nights sleep with a good instill of decaf...2 cups of decaf. Ill except take a walk down to the cower manse restaurant. I sit down at the preclude and looked around me. This lieu hadnt changed a bit, same polished floors with same framed pictures of various(a) 80s singers, same old fashioned juke stroke whizzing onward in the corner. I picked up a computer menu and began to look at the different items trying to decide if I wanted to rules of put up eat. Excuse me, said someone, as they touched me on the shoulder. I looked up and turned to the expression to see a rather tight-laced look char standing before me, too thin to be a real waitress. Is your piddle Roger by some(prenominal) chance? she asked me. Yes. I responded, looking rather confused as I had never seen the woman before. My see is Barbara and my save is Tony, she said, pointing to a disconcert near the penetration leading outside . I looked in the room that she was pointing but I did not recognize the man who was sitting, solely at the table. Im sorry. I dont think that I know you. My name is Roger Kiser, I told her. Tony Claxton. Tony from Landon gamy School in Jacksonville, Florida? she asked me.

Im really sorry. The name doesnt ring a bell. I said. She turned and walked back to her table and sat down. She and her husband immediately began talking. I finally decided to cast breakfast and a cup of decaffeinated coffee, ahh the simple pleasures of life. I sat at that place continually racking my brain trying to recover who this Tony twat was. I must know him, I judgment to myself. He recognizes me for... If you wan! t to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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