Terry Bremner had always wanted to escape the family business, a butcher's shop, and because he had always been good with figures, he decided he could make a go of it as an accountant.So he moved to a different town and worked for the Parks Department, and took evening classes in accountancy with people who - he was happy to note - came from all walks of life.
After two terms however, Terry's father died, and he had to return to the shop to oversee the funeral arrangements and put the Estate in order. There he found that the business was in such a mess and his mother in so distraught a condition that he was obliged to postpone his progress towards certification and turn himself to breathing new life into "Bremner's, The Family Butchers".
By the time the business was red-blooded and his mother laid to rest, Terry had quite forgotten how to do anything else. His time was more than taken up.
However he married reasonably well, had two children (girls), and drank rather more single malt whisky than his wife thought was good for him.
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6 comments:
The purest of tragedies. Not since Sophocles have I encountered such pity and terror
I've read something similar written by Chloderlos De Laclos...Or was it Leopold von Sacher-Masoch?....No, no...Now I remember, it was Barbara Cartland!
I cede you the point, Oscar. Not even the great Aeschylus could match Dame Barbara. Especially in the tragic use of pink.
The dream is never thwarted. We just make the mistake of thinking we know what the dream should be!
is there no value in an ordinary life? desire causes suffering, and his desire to be something else may have robbed him the opportunity to really enjoy who he was.
I take my hat off to you, Anonymous. You've managed the whole piece in 30 words.A little short on fine detail, but the essence for all to see!
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