Throughout the evening, they drank, talked and joked. They had a great meal, yet we were offered nothing. But all of us slaves knew our places. We remained at our Master’s feet like the family dog, except we were not offered a morsel of meat from his hand under the table. We didn’t beg or put our heads on their legs, hoping for a treat. No, we knelt in our proper positions and never moved or even raised our heads. The waiter came and served our Masters, completely ignoring us. Other patrons of the restaurant came and went, and no one even paid the slightest bit of attention. After all, we are just slaves.
Finally they were finished and decided to head across town to a bar that they liked. We got up and followed. As I passed close to Eric, I felt his hand touch mine. He pushed a mint he’d
