A friend called me last week. He requested financial support and support for a hospital patient in need. Then he told the life of his sick friend.
We started primary school together. Since the lengths were the same, we sat in the same order as the first year. In the following years, we were in the same order until the primary school was over because he wanted to sit with me. His father was one of the most influential and wealthiest people in the city. My father was proud to share the same line with him, proudly telling him in the same order as the Gentleman's son.
He'd always be different from us. Her black apron wasn't the same fabric as ours. It was gleaming and no crease. We hear her mother buys her gowns fabrics from England and makes them sew on the most expensive tailor. The shoes we never saw in ours, we did not meet in the city was one of the models. Especially his bags were big leather, like the managers, but he didn't appreciate much. Two leather bags a year.
You always had plenty of money in your pocket. Kant was the best customer of the chocolate. He took plenty, and he used to distribute it to us. Their home wasn't too far from school. While he was walking with his three, four-fold distances, he came to school with his father's big car in his driveway, and the driver would carry him his bags to the classroom door.
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