How To Survive In A Dump: The Diary of Mr. Thaddeus

My butler with the white tuff down the middle to my surprise has made it his purpose to move on and deliver his services to others in need. Quite odd I suppose that it never occurred to me that he perchance could be much older than I once thought. Now let me tell you a secret that it is not in all clear to myself. This butler with the white tuff down the middle has served me for a time with a kindness that I knew not. Truly a blunder that such a man would help one such as I. Sorry. I apologize.

Now again to the secret I spoke of earlier. He often when mentioning those of old and pirates of his day included that at his time, he was still of age but to my knowledge looks no older than the tender age of a young 30. It has not upset me in the least that he has told me that the many letters he wrote himself, as to my parents wishes. For some reason they knew what I could become if ever evil were to befall them. It was truly something that would have run me for a loop but at this time I found great solace in such a thing. That even though those who loved me were no longer near they still spoke to this young master through the carefully crafted letters of another of whom I also now love.

 One who once served under my own grandfather at some point in time. It would be my guess that he was but a child, but I am unsure, and this butler has never said much about such a thing. It was a joyous yet unhappy occasion when he walked into an office my accountant and I both shared with a smile and a grin, a large top hat and the most beautiful clothing that you could ever imagine. Each article of clothing had stitching through out and was a most beautiful, deep navy blue like the deepest waters of the sea and long braids and darker hue. He sat near to me and hugged both the accountant and I. 

It is no wonder that again for another time in my life I felt what I once thought as shameful tears, but they warmed my face like a gentle mist and we sat there in such a pose for hours. It was not long before the butler stood up again and said his goodbyes and was off. Out of the office and out of my mansion this butler went to do what he had done for me towards others in his time here. My accountant and I only looked at each other and smiled. Bittersweet I realized I had forgotten his first name and last or really, he had never told me of what I should call him. 

It took some time before I found myself outside but not long enough that he should have been within ear shot of my calling for him. With tears rolling down my cheeks I searched, looked and wept bitterly. And non knew where he had gone. As if he had snuck past all without a trace. As if he were never here. And yet, this butler of mine left me a gift in my remembrance even to this time where his departure was not truly one of loss, but in my heart I knew that one day, at some point and time I would see this man again.