Post by ATTICUS FINCH on Aug 1, 2012 9:29:44 GMT -5
Atticus loved his career on most days. He liked the challenge of a courtroom , or the connection he got with his clients. He most of all liked the satisfaction he got when he helped an innocent person. He knew what some other lawyers have called him when they thought his back was turned. He was just a hillbilly from Alabama, who was to stupid to drop clients who couldn't pay him. Well what they called stupid , Atticus called the right thing to do. Everyone deserved the chance to be made innocent, even if the circumstances are not on their side.
One of the best things thought that Atticus thought came with his job, was his office. It wasn't big, nor was very corporate. But it was his, and filled with people who liked their jobs as much as he did his.
He reflected on this thought as he sat at his very over crowded desk. It wasn't messy or disorganized, he just had a bunch of things on it. Stacks of newspapers sat next to the desk , waiting to be either read or taken out by an intern. Files were on the corner of the desk ,ready to be open, read and then sent off to court. But the center point of his desk had to be the pictures of his family that he had there.
His wife was in a frame all of her own. He often found himself just starring at the picture of her bright smiling face, and wondering how he could ever live without her. But then his eyes stray to the picture of his two children. It was one he had taken when they moved to New York. both their eyes were filled with such wonder and joy that it was impossible not to take a picture. They were why he was still around. Without them he was sure that he would of been just a shell of himself.
Taking a deep breath he looked at the pictures on his desk one last time before looking up. He took a drink from his coffee mug and silently wondered what the day would bring in.
One of the best things thought that Atticus thought came with his job, was his office. It wasn't big, nor was very corporate. But it was his, and filled with people who liked their jobs as much as he did his.
He reflected on this thought as he sat at his very over crowded desk. It wasn't messy or disorganized, he just had a bunch of things on it. Stacks of newspapers sat next to the desk , waiting to be either read or taken out by an intern. Files were on the corner of the desk ,ready to be open, read and then sent off to court. But the center point of his desk had to be the pictures of his family that he had there.
His wife was in a frame all of her own. He often found himself just starring at the picture of her bright smiling face, and wondering how he could ever live without her. But then his eyes stray to the picture of his two children. It was one he had taken when they moved to New York. both their eyes were filled with such wonder and joy that it was impossible not to take a picture. They were why he was still around. Without them he was sure that he would of been just a shell of himself.
Taking a deep breath he looked at the pictures on his desk one last time before looking up. He took a drink from his coffee mug and silently wondered what the day would bring in.
