Prologe

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     I walked down the streets I have known all of my days, yet today the sun didn't seam to shine as bright. The once color filled scene that's filled my memory of the town now seamed dull and grey. Though I continue to walk unable to shake the strange unfamiliarity of my childhood home.
      "Would ya care for a sweet for the road young man," he spoke outstretching his hand. The candy seemed small in his large hand.
     "Uh, no sir," I stuttered turning to walk away. Suddenly I felt his strong hands on my shoulders pulling me back toward his cart. Before I had the chance to free myself I was facing him as he inspected my face holding onto my chin. He stared.
     "Well I be darned," he paused now inspecting my hair and pulling my ears.
     "You look just like my old friend," he paused moving his way down to my legs.
"I have that one of those faces," I was now struggling to keep my balance as he examined each of my feet.
"No," he paused and stood, faced me, and pointed his finger right between my eyes. "Your Jim Wilson's boy!" He screamed proud of his brilliant deduction. "Now how is your old man? He used to work with me at the bakery about, um, 30 or so pounds ago," he smiled laughing and grabbing his gut.
"He is," I pause, maybe this man was insane or he just hadn't heard about my dad's death. Then again did I really want to be the person to tell him that his friend was dead, or would it be better to just let him continue in blissful ignorance. "Good." He smiled, whistling through the gap in his teeth as he breathed.
"I miss that old moose, please will ya tell him that ole rich misses him."
I smiled, "of course." He then turned around and handed me a small white bag.
"For your travels." I nodded and walked on, continuing inching closer and closer to my future. I reached into the bag and grabbed the small yellow candy unwrapped it and placed in my mouth. I sighed butterscotch, Suddenly i remembered walking with my mother down to the bakery to get bread for dinner. When they handed us the bread she would always buy two butterscotch candies. We would walk down my the river and she would sing the songs paced down through the family. I didn't have much growing up, but I always had my mother and her beautiful songs by the riverside. As the last of the candy melted in my mouth I found myself now facing the extravagant building that held my future.

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