Hear - first section

Ten minutes left. Enough time to grab a last cigarette and check his
tie in the men's-room mirror. He had always felt awkward in a suit and
in fact he had never worn one since he was forced to attend his
auntie's wedding when he was eleven. He had squirmed uncomfortably
then, as he did now. All he wanted was for this to be over so he could
rip off the tie and claustrophobic jacket. Still it would be worth it.
As he sucked in a lungful of smoke from his final cigarette, feeling
decidedly like the condemned man, the image made him chuckle quietly to
himself, he pinned the name badge to his breast pocket. PHILIP HUNTER,
the green writing with the gold trim gave the name a deceptively regal
feel. He ditched the last inch of his cigarette and began the walk
across the sweeping marble floors of the building. This was where he
had worked so hard to get to, yet now he was filled with doubt, the
butterflies in his stomach had given way to a swarm of locusts. Still
beneath all of this was a huge sense of pride, he had finally made it,
but it had been a struggle. He took his position and prepared for the
first of them to pour in through the doors. At twenty-nine years of
age, it had been twelve years since it all began. He had known that
there would be problems, but he also knew the problems lay not in his
ability but in people's perceptions of him.

Philip Hunter left high school with fairly average grades in most
subjects; however there was one area in which he shone. He knew this
was the path he wished to pursue. At seventeen Philip had moved out and
he lived alone. His apartment was hardly luxurious but it was all he
needed.

It was a Friday night and he sat on the sagging mattress with its
battered metal frame that passed for a bed, it had been cheap enough so
he couldn't complain. He thumbed idly through yet another brochure then
tossed it back onto the pile and lit up another cigarette. He would
quit next week, he told himself. A few of the brochures remained unread
but he had lost interest, as far as he was concerned the choice was
already made. Next came the series of meetings and interviews, but that
could wait. He flicked his cigarette butt onto the plate that served as
an ashtray and turned off the light. In the morning he would head into
town and post that all important letter.