Greg Goodsell:
CLASS OF 1978
South High SchoolClass of 1978
Bakersfield, CA
Greg's Story
The pain jabbed at him incessantly. "Yes, we built a vacation home in Oregon. You would think that real estate up there would cost an arm and a leg, but it doesn't," he told his friend as he walked with him out to the parking lot.
Stabbing sensation ran up and down his body. It was hard for him to continue. "It's a little two-bedroom with a great view of the lake," he said. "To cut a long story short, we build our dream home and then Alice wants to spend her vacation in Europe! We have yet to spend a night there!"
The stinging sensation became unbearable. "I'm glad to hear you're doing so well," his friend said in a voice cooked through with boredom and envy. "It's good to know that somebody from our class went on to do well after school."
He prayed his friend didn't see the tears of ...Expand for more
pain gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Sure thing. Don't hesitate to give me and Alice a call after you get back home."
With that his friend got in his car, revved the engine and was off. He waved and smiled broadly until the car was out of view. Taking great care to make sure no one was watching, he limped to a nearby bench.
Peeling off his shoe, it was what he had feared. The gaping hole at the bottom had already chafed through his already threadbare sock to leave a raw blister on the bottom of his foot. The weeping ulcer had collected bits of gravel from the parking lot, adding to his discomfort immeasurably.
Taking a piece of cardboard from a discarded candy wrapper, he plugged the hole in his shoe. Plastering a forced smile across his face, he rejoined the reunion inside.
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