Yours Soulfully...

5.

Aaron Lincoln was a fairly courageous man. He didn't get scary vibes over darkness, cobwebs, owl calls, spiders and other such things people normally squeeze their gut over. But he had a worse fear. He feared that he'll never be an individual. If there was one thing he was always regretting, it was being born as a Lincoln; being born as Kennedy Lincoln's son.

In all of LA, Kennedy Lincoln is the extremely successful owner of a top notch law firm. But still, he let his son who finished law at their alma - mater Yale to work under other lawyers. Oh, he's so loyal to his work and he also lets his son have the freedom of doing what he likes. Aaron has heard these words once too often and he couldn't control his eye rolls anymore. Loyalty and freedom his foot. Anybody who knew Kennedy could easily predict that he did that exactly for that kind of praise.

Even if Aaron got to work with other lawyers, they never do treat him as a talented, passionate individual. They treat him merely as the son of a hot - shot who is learning his options out here before going back to his Daddy and taking over their million dollar company. None of the three lawyers he worked with ever gave him any work. He just went to their office, have casual talk with the clients that come while they're waiting to meet the main lawyer and then sit idly all day. Court days are just a tad more productive, as he learns field experiences from the way the lawyers, judges and jury speak. But that's the most of it. Heck, even a 2nd year law student interning there had more jobs than him. He brews coffee, fetches the required files and takes notes as the lawyer prepares for court! All in all, his father's name has made Aaron a worthless addition to the world. Fame can take interesting men and throw mediocrity upon them, said a famous songwriter. But for Aaron, fame didn't even let him be an interesting man. Fame made him feel oblivious. What a twisted irony, he often thought.

These thoughts filled his mind as coffee would brim the cup of a man lost in thought as he holds it in front of the espresso machine: quick and fiercely. That was what happened to the new college going intern of the veteran civil lawyer and the retired strict Judge, Morgan McPherson. Aaron's new job was to work as the Judge's assistant and he hoped he could get more work than just warming his office chair all day because Judge McPherson is retired and his old clients may have cases that he may hand over to Aaron. There were too many 'may's in it but still Aaron hoped to win the odds.

The intern, Jim something, had switched on an espresso machine and didn't notice the cup filling till the dark brown liquid attacked his fingers holding the cup. The burn made him squeal and Aaron couldn't help but chuckle at the feminine squealing.

"Seriously, dude? My hand is burning here! I got to go find the first aid kit. Will you please give this coffee to the Judge?" Jim pleaded and Aaron agreed immediately, ready to take any job other than being glued to his seat all day.

When he was about to knock at Judge McPherson's office, he found that the door was not closed, and instead lay ajar by a minuscule distance. Contemplating whether to barge in due to the open door being a signal or to knock in spite of the door being open, Aaron stood at the corridor, absolutely muddled. Some people appreciated in the politeness and privacy of a knock, while some didn't like to waste time in that formality. His own mother and father were examples to either cases. Yet, he couldn't judge what the Judge would want. This was his first time serving coffee for anybody.

Before he could resolve this big life crisis, a strong wind blew and it pushed the door further ajar. Now it was open enough for Aaron to peak into. By mere keen instincts, he poked his head in.

Inside, he saw the office that he rarely ever visits. It was a big spacious room, with plush furniture everywhere. There was a glass window embedded on the wall opposite to the door, to which the big table was closer to. Behind that big table, Judge McPherson was seated in a rolling chair, his back turned away from the door. The morning sunshine entered through the glass window and shone across the room, lighting it mellowly. It casted a shadow across all objects in the room, including the petty chair on which Judge is seated.