The realization of a man that life changes over time, and that all things that go around come around and how your worst enemies can become your best friends

Essay by NightwolfHigh School, 11th grade March 2003

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Ahh, up bright and early on Saturday morning.

Nothing beats a good night's sleep with a good cup of decaf...2 cups of decaf.

I'll just take a walk down to the Huddle House restaurant.

I sat down at the counter and looked around me. This place hadn't changed a bit, same polished floors with same framed pictures of various 80's singers, same "old fashioned" juke box whizzing away in the corner.

I picked up a menu and began to look at the different items trying to decide if I wanted to order breakfast.

"Excuse me," said someone, as they touched me on the shoulder.

I looked up and turned to the side to see a rather nice looking woman standing before me, too nice to be a real waitress.

"Is your name Roger by any chance?" she asked me.

"Yes." I responded, looking rather confused as I had never seen the woman before.

"My name is Barbara and my husband is Tony," she said, pointing to a table near the door leading outside.

I looked in the direction that she was pointing but I did not recognize the man who was sitting, alone at the table.

"I'm sorry. I don't think that I know you. My name is Roger Kiser," I told her.

"Tony Claxton. Tony from Landon High School in Jacksonville, Florida?" she asked me.

"I'm really sorry. The name doesn't ring a bell." I said.

She turned and walked back to her table and sat down. She and her husband immediately began talking.

I finally decided to order breakfast and a cup of decaffeinated coffee, ahh the simple pleasures of life. I sat there continually racking my brain trying to remember who this Tony guy was.

"I must know him," I thought to myself. "He recognizes...