just some sketch

grabbed from lynndoodle.blogspot.com

The maintenance man would always come at the same time right after lunch. Waving a hand warmly at George he would head to wherever it was needed to fix anything. George wouldn’t even look at the big clock in the hall. He’d just wait for a grey-haired wrinkled man wave at him with a smile, and then he’d got back to reading history or literature book. Professor Dimley would come in no time and check the last read paragraphs, slurping his tea. That would be a common afternoon for George as there was no chance he’d run around with those kids from a candy shop, sniffing caramel scent they’d spread after them, dreaming of cheesecake leftovers. George himself could have all cheesecakes of the world, all caramels, but he simply could not run anymore. ‘’Not unless there is an extraordinary interference’’ — that’s what the doctor said. And George had enough time to get used to this, so that same pace of each day bothered him no more, except for…The maintenance man didn’t come today.