This is the continuation of a story. You can read the rest here.
A small man with small glasses and short brown hair on his head only from the ears down walks around a desk to come shake my hand. I consider myself of average height for a Homo sapiens, but I feel like a giant when I shake his hand. I practically have to bend over to reach the little thing.
He’s wearing a three-piece suit and I wonder if he bought it in the boy’s department. Do they even have three-piece suits for boys? It seems like an odd thing for boys to wear. When I was a boy, I didn’t even have a suit; just a suit coat and non-matching fancy pants.
A voice asking, “Mr….?” shakes me out of my menswear reverie. Focus, dummy. Have we been holding hands this whole time?
“Walker Drake. And…
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