"A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,"
Alfred's lips slowly mouthed the words as his eyes scanned across the page. The words flowed from his tongue, flipping off the end of it and dancing into the air with ease. They were so beautiful, so sweet and poignant, so true.
He smiled softly and let the book drop to the counter; the tattered book landing with a muffled thump. Shakespeare. A guilty pleasure of his. 'There's nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of Shakespeare.' People would say, their prim and proper fingers gripping the slim copies of the books. They'd stare at him over the rims of their thin half-moon glasses, eyes silently judging the rough and sun-kissed boy with the tousled hair and crooked smile.
It wasn't his fault he hadn't been born into the lap of luxury; it wasn't like he chose to be born on a farm. He didn't ask for his mother to give birth to him in the hayloft and raise him like he was just another pig she was going to send off to slaughter just as soon as he was big enough. If he'd been given the choice...Well, he didn't know what he'd pick.
Maybe he'd choose to be born into royalty...A prince! Prince Alfred, heir to the throne of England. Yes, that would be wonderful. He would be born to a kind and gentle mother, one that would coddle him when he was hurt and hardly ever raise her voice. His father would be a strong man; he'd be a wise and noble king. One that ruled with an iron fist but loved with the tender heart of a poet. His family would be perfect. They wouldn't scrape to make ends meet and Alfred wouldn't be scrambling from job to job, desperate to do what little part he could.
But no. He'd been born to Penny and Willis Jones, 4th generation farmers on a plot of land that might as well have been made of stone. Nothing grew on their farm; even their hopes and dreams seemed to be starting to wither. Money was nonexistent and the animals were reaching their expiration date.
Life was tough, but it wasn't exactly the hardest thing to got by in whatever way they could. If that meant Alfred had to work in all his spare time, then he'd skip out on book club and do whatever it was he had to. Sometimes he'd get discouraged, but when he did he just had to remind himself that there were other people who had it worse. Much worse. He had a roof over his head, food on his table and clothes on his back, didn't he? Sure, his life was full of hardships, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
He could be stuck in a situation like Romeo. He could be torn from his true love just because they came from different background. That would just be horrible. Ah, Alfred didn't think he could handle that. To be torn from the one he loved at all would be punishment enough, but to see his true love dead in front of his eyes...That would be a pain he wouldn't want to see.
"Ah, pardon me, but do you have any scones?"