[center][h1][color=EFE98B]Nathaniel Westmoreland[/color][/h1][/center][hr]

Nathaniel Westmoreland struck his shovel into the mound of dirt gathered in one of the family’s rusted red wheelbarrows. He heaved in with what little weight he had, filling up the head of the shovel to scoop out soil over the wire fence. He hated feeling his fingers clutch tight the handle of the shovel, picking up small patches of hardened dirt. He hated his white t-shirt clinging to his sweat covered back. Nate quickly shoveled a few pounds of dirt out of the wheelbarrow and into the large mud barrow. The sooner he was done with his work, the sooner he could get back to enjoying his day. Nate grit his teeth as he rolled the wheelbarrow back into the large toolshed to keep it safe from the weather, and grabbed the coiled up hose. He sprayed down the dirt in the mud barrow to keep it fresh, walked over to the connected pigpen, and sprayed water into their water trough until it was nearly full. The stench was nauseating to Nate, but his nose had become dulled to the smell of the happy pigs and their piles of manure. Even so, dealing with the fresh manure and urine was Rory’s job. Nate grabbed a long hook from the toolshed and used it to unlock and open the gate between the pen and the barrow. He quickly stepped back as a couple of the more clever pigs charged forward and dove into the fresh mud to cool themselves down. He groaned as he watched a small smatter of mud plop onto the hem of his overalls.

With his chores taken care of for the morning and the pigs oinking their satisfactions, Nate made his way into the house. He ignored his mother in the living room, sitting on the couch yet again watching game shows on the tv with her foot propped up on an ottoman. The truck was absent from the driveway, meaning Nate’s father must be out running errands. Nate quickly stopped by the laundry room, stripping off his overalls to apply some stain remover quickly. He took a quick shower, and changed into a simple outfit: sneakers, jeans, a plain t-shirt, and an overshirt. He didn’t bother letting his hair finish dry as he quickly grabbed his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder and heading out the side door of the house. He reached for the handle of his old yellow bicycle, ignoring the old peeling paint and squealing gears as he took off down the dirt driveway of the Westmoreland farm.[hr]

Before long, Nate rolled to a stop in front of the New Hope Library. He parked his bike in an old bike rack, not bothering to lock it. He walked in, giving a little nod of greeting to Old Hickory as the librarian was speaking into his phone. "You'll be the first I call... You too, enjoy the festivities, should be a good one this year." Nate climbed up to the second floor to find his usual table near the window, cracking open a worn copy of Homer’s Odyssey. His eyes drifted out the window between paragraphs, as he watched those near the shores of Lake Chartreuse preparing for the coming festival.