(TO BE CONTINUED) (TO BE EDITED)
Tom awoke to the smell of pancakes in the air. He slowly turned and looked at the alarm clock on his night-stand to his side. It was eight-thirty a.m. He quickly stretched out, his body spreading over more than the entire length of his tiny twin-sized mattress. He got up out of bed, got himself dressed, and then went downstairs. Downstairs, his father Michael had made pancakes and eggs.
“Good morning!” his father quickly and happily snapped.
Tom thought about saying good morning back to him, but he was still too asleep to say anything. Instead, he gives out a short grunt.
Tom sat down at the kitchen table, as he watched his father whip and toss utensils around the kitchen, and after a few minutes, put food on two plates and bring them to the table. Michael sat down right across the table from Tom.
“You better wake up son.” Michael demanded. “You only got a couple more months before you are done with school, you don’t want to be sleeping on the job.”
Tom and Michael both picked at their food, eating bits and pieces of pancakes and eggs every now-and-then.
(TO BE CONTINUED) (TO BE EDITED)
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