A blond-haired man sat quietly at a small worktable, lit only by a small candle that was slowly burning out. With quill pen in hand, the young man wrote carefully and concisely on the parchment that rested upon the table. Thomas Wallis, at age twenty-four, was working, with the utmost determination, to create a novel that the publishers would find an undeniable masterpiece. With hard work and determination, Thomas was certain he would attain his goal someday. He worked tirelessly on the many drafts that now littered his small room that presided just above the printing house in which he worked. The boarding fee was reasonable and Thomas found that he had ample time to work on both his novel and perform his actual job-- publishing others literary works. Ah, the irony. He thought with a bitter chuckle. Placing the quill pen down, the blond felt his eyelids growing heavy so he rested his head upon the tabletop. Just before blissful sleep swept him away, he wondered what his friend Alois Trancy was doing at this time of night. If he knew the young earl well-- which he did-- he was doing anything but sleeping. For Alois Trancy was an unusual child.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Oct 2013 03:26:32 +0000
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