Ted, The Lawyer
So I was tagged by Alcarwen, so here goes.
Ted was glad that he’d come out of the office today. Now, standing in the sun, his sunglasses reflecting afternoon sun for almost the first time since he’d passed the bar, he couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t done this before.
It all seemed so natural. Here he was, chatting up some tall atheletic guys’ wife, drinking a beer, and laughing. Laughing without needing to ask himself later whether he was just playing along with the client’s joke because its what he had to do.
This is who I am, he thought. This is who I want to be, where I want to be. Why would I want to move to some big town and become some corporate lawyer clone? My god! I’ve become so anal retentive I actually pressed and starched my t-shirt before coming out here!
Right then, laughing at Nancy’s stories of her kids, he decided. No more. Ted was going to keep being a lawyer, but his time as an office drone was done. There was so much life to be had, right here in small town America. Ted, standing in the warm fall sun, floating on the spiced, heady scent of dozens of chilis cooking and the sweet musical laughter of children, had found himself again.
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Testing the comments again, since apparently Alcarwen cant get them to work…
I like the story:) I know a lawyer named Ted too, hehe.
You sell yourself short about writing… you should do it more. practice makes perfect. or close to it. there isn’t such a thing as perfect writing;-)
oh dear. i also iron my shirts. but i’m not anal enough to either call it “pressing” or bust out the starch. maybe i’m still okay.