Alfred POV

I haven't seen the Pretty Boy in a long time... well two days... I'm worried -- and if there is anything that I got from my mother in loads, it is certainly worrying. Maybe he hated me... maybe he thought I was stupid or annoying or... useless. Or a nobody.

He wasn't a nobody to me. He was smart and knew big words like optimism. And I wish I could say hi to him or something...

But instead, all I can do is watch out the window and wait for him to walk by. I reread the letter once more.

Dear Orphan Boy,

I live in a place that is guarded like a prison... But they grant me time to leave for a walk daily. I'm not sure they'd do the same for you, though. Our situations are different.

Also, I don't think you know what optimism means. Optimism means that you look on the bright side of everything. This is what the dictionary says:

op·ti·mism
/ˈäptəˌmizəm/
noun
noun: optimism
1. hopefulness and confidence about the future or the successful outcome of something.

I hope that helps.

Until next time,

"Pretty Boy" (as you said)

I smiled and looked out the window. I figured that I'd be optimistic and have confidence that the Pretty Boy would return.

I didn't have to hope for too long. Pretty Boy made his way toward the fence, hat and all. I saw him smile, and that made me smile even more. He stepped up and watched as I tossed the plane through the fence... He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, just like with ma'am. He wasn't as old as ma'am, so I was confused. But I said nothing.

That's not to say that it didn't worry me.

I want Pretty Boy to be okay.

And maybe (I'll keep my optimism) we'll be able to meet up and see each other without a fence between us.

I'd like that.