It had been a long, hard day. Like the one before it and the one before that, its products were walking long distances and gnawing hunger. The first was the process of searching for employment, the second was the product of empty pockets.
He took a second, lingering, look at the bank. He had no business there. Everyone knew that to work in a bank, you were not employed at the bank. He did not even operate an account there.
He made to pass but felt that tug to enter the premises again. He went in.
He was approaching the glass doors when sirens filled the air. While the security man at the door barred them enrty -- ushering them to the side -- the main gate was already being thrown open to admit a bullion van. Armed Policemen jumped down from still moving trucks, commando style.
The revolving door that led to and from the banking hall opened, a man decked, from head to toe, in white, stepped out. As he joined them to wait, their eyes met. Recognition hit them at the same time.
"Kekere! Oh my! Been ages."
He enveloped him in a hug, oblivious to the lack of response or the obvious difference in social status. Even the hug was only hesitantly returned.
"Wow! Amazing!" He gushed. "Haven't seen you since we left school. How are you? What have you been up to?"
Kekere attempted to speak, his vocal cords constricted. He made another attempt, tears filled his eyes. Just before they spilled, his former roommate held him in a bear hug.
"Don't worry. You don't have to say a thing. I've got you. Rest assured, things will be different from now on."
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