My Friend Morton

"This is really delicious. I can't imagine how anyone has a better life."  Morton sat quietly in the shade of a large oak tree, savoring a crunchy snack as two bluebirds gossiped above his head.  He wasn't ready to swallow the joy he heard in their shallow speak, but he'll put it in his pocket for later.  The warm lemonade sun filled the sky around him, but not directly.  He didn't care much for that.  Morton swallowed the rest of his breakfast with a final crescendo, meticulously tidying his face as he searched for hidden morsels.  "I mean, seriously..." he simultaneously sighed & closed his eyes, resting on the wise bark.  The faintest of smirks began to creep along the side of his mouth.

Morton loved his home and was proud of how far he'd come.  Although modest in size, its collected wares displayed a thoughtful appreciation to his first true love.  The one who took him away from his other life.  His parents weren't usually there, as folks around those parts tended to never be.  Morton was a typical middle existence, confined to the demanding attention of all those sibling eyes begging for attention.  Responsibility didn't come easy, but he took it seriously.  Some days he would scour the back alleys behind the downtown bakeries, hoping there lay a feast around the crumbling bricks.  Some days his family didn't eat at all.  He often felt alone while tending to his younger kin, day dreaming about creating a life bigger than what could ever be found staying in the corners of the room.

"Just a few more minutes in this moment..." his shift would be starting soon.

~~~~~

"I always wanted to make a difference."  Morton proudly said to no one as his eyes grazed upon today's harvest.  A surge of determination filled his voice.  He found this bustling world to be the pin that inspired his choices, both in cooking and in life.  Although no one ever noticed his contributions, he actually enjoyed getting up early now, excited for the days' purpose yet to be written by his knife.  Not like before when he would sleep all day after brawling into the dawn, doing anything to escape his circumstantial boredom.

Morton spent most of the week working in a stale restaurant, the old familiar faces blurring past while he stayed focused on his goals.  He delicately sliced & chopped, prepping a beautiful offering for the tired scavengers who never noticed.  He often distracted himself by imagining his own place, the signs' firefly like glow beaming his name.  Morton thought of the customers who would wait all week for a chance to sit at his chef's table, patiently watching him weave a masterpiece of fine delicacy from scratch.  He knows one day his presence will tremble the lessor creature.  And he liked that very much.

"MORTON!!  I need that side in 90 seconds."  demanded his boss.
"On it chef." he hoped, emitting an aire of fraudulent confidence as he flipped his precisely cut vegetables sautéing in the small fry pan.  He respected what he could learn from the boss, but wished he would put him in charge some times.  Just once, then he could prove them all wrong...

"Hello Miss, how are you today?"  chirped the host.

"Fine." assertively sending a half-grin as she walked past, headed for the usual table.  The stench of her judgement lingered deep into the kitchen.  What was her story, Morton wondered.  It was the one customer he always noticed because her indistinct attitude bothered him.  He didn't like the courage she emanated, from her curls to her frilly dress.  She sat there, freedom to eat her toast and cottage cheese while his talent was stuck behind a "yes chef."  he was jealous.  His eyes seething as he stared out at her tiny frame.  She knew what she was doing and he hated her for it.

~~~~~

"This is really delicious. I can't imagine how anyone has a better life."  Morton sat quietly in the shade of a large oak tree, savoring a crunchy snack as two bluebirds gossiped above his head.  He wasn't ready to swallow the joy he heard in their shallow speak, but he'll put it in his pocket for later.  The warm lemonade sun filled the sky around him, but not directly.  He didn't care much for that.  Morton swallowed the rest of his breakfast with a final crescendo, meticulously tidying his face as he searched for hidden morsels.  "I mean, seriously..." he simultaneously sighed & closed his eyes, resting on the wise bark.  The faintest of smirks began to creep along the side of his mouth as he heard her struggling to loosen the heavy chains again.  He patted his chef's knife that lay near him on this beautiful day, "Soon friend we'll get to work."