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Golden Coin


"Sir," the elderly butler stated, standing straight as a stick and was as skinny as one., "Mistress Shelley wishes to speak to you."
        The man at the lavish desk leaned into the finely crafted leather and wooden chair with a high back that didn't need to be as such, but was because the man with the money, a lot of money at that, had asked for it. With blue eyes, the man stared up at his servant coldly, snapping the gold coin on the shiny, unused desk surface that he had been twirling like a top for amusement.
        The servant, though he stood as still as a brick wall, swallowed back a lump in his throat clearly in his own mind scared for what those thick, overly moist lips were about to say.    
        "Again?"
        "Again, Sir."
        The man pressed a fingertip to his temple, stifling a groan that was too loud. "She just comes back again and again. It's never enough with these people."
        "They are homeless."
        "Then get jobs to get homes."
        "No jobs will take them."
        "Well they are clearly useless to our society."
        "I suppose." The butler agreed with no pride. His voice, low to the ground and beaten to where it was a sound with no soul.
        "Bring her in." He sighed like an over asked teenager and began to play with his coin once more, feeling the texture against his thumb and index.
        The butler nodded only once simply for respect of the higher up and nothing more. Within the next five minutes, a young lady with long brown hair, brown eyes and an innocent smile sat on the chair opposite to the man baby in front of her. She wore the fanciest dress she had, a knee high, thick strapped straight gown, a solid orphan blue with a jade band around her thin waist to still be able to attract those of the opposite sex. It worked well from time to time.
        She watched as the gold filed through the thick fingers of the bulbous man in the chair that dwarfed her own. Bands of gold, silver and copper wedged onto those meaty digits as if to make sure no one stole them in the dead of night. She no longer smiled as she normally did. Her head was down, knowing her place as a woman.
"Sir," she began after the lone sound of the grandfather clock in the background began the annoy her. "I'm sorry to disturb you like this again but I have very good reason t-"
        "Another child?" He hissed under his breath. The young lady stared back down at her folded hands. Clearly he had guessed correctly. The sun seemed to dim causing the room to turn an evil darkness, the tapping of the man's coin against the wood of the desk stopped making Shelley look up a bit. The man, hair thinning and chin resting in the fat of his neck leaned forward a tiny amount. The protesting leather of his clothing and chair thundered within her head. She felt sweat on her brow.
        "Y-Yes," she finally said glancing from the coin to her hands to those ghostly blue devil eyes. "Though this one was not planned, but it would be good for the farm, we need more workers." Her mind raced trying to get everything out at once. "I personally believe this would be good."
        "Babies are work." The man stated simply. "Annoying little creatures until the age of seven when they can finally hold a shovel and not fall over. Parasites of money, of food. My food no less."
        "Like he needs any more food," she thought. "Even so think about down the road. One more worker, instead of nine of us, there will be ten."
        "Three of which are still too young."
        "Aye, but within the years, age will come and so will muscle and balance, thus more workers and, eventually more crops."
        The man raised an eyebrow putting the circle of gold back into the depths of his coat pocket. Never to be seen again. "That would be good." A smile crept over his dimly lit face. "Very well, keep the child, in return I wish to see more crops in the coming years than any other year. I don't like to be disappointed."
        "Aye, I know."
        The girl was then shooed away as the man prepared to count his savings once more, the grin still painted across his face.


by Meghan Storey





































Last Modified: Feb 25, 2016
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