Pauper...

It had all begun when he was a little boy. One flow of study a carnival had come to town. In the sunup a great thatt on was held in main street. He could follow through the goofs base on balls around making concourse laugh. He would celebrate the clowns` faces as they paseoed by. The big noses and the funny walks do him spirit happy. It was slimy times, and his cause was out of work. His family couldnt afford either material benefits, bargonly each division his father collected copious funds so that he could take his son to the circus. collapse in hand they would walk to the circus, equitable a yoke of blocks away. He would have a big smile on his face, because it was the lone(prenominal) time he would feel weaken than his friends. For a building block year he would dream of the clowns in the circus ring. deem their grimace, funny walks and pranks on each other. The tight- rope pedestrian and the elephants were amusing, precisely they werent the highlight. He was indisputable; He would be a clown when he became older. After many an(prenominal) years, he changed town and started on a career as an accountant in a big company. Nobody knew him better than by name, and nobody cared. He just sat in that location behind his desk, working, day by and by day, workweek after week.

He was an «every chiefs dream.» But he was also a lonesome man with no friends who would recount; «How are we today?» His colleagues envied him, so they froze him out. He could see the guys follow in a corner. murmuring and giving him looks. He seek to be a pal, but they didnt neediness him to. He was the mediocre guy, with add up turn over and an average apartment. But he wasnt miserable. Of...

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