Short Story, Death Of a Salesman

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Getting the Sand We just went of getting some sand to rebuild the front doorstep. I was quite excited because of Uncle Ben being here and all; I really wanted to show him what we could do. “ ‘So what do you think Biff, do you think you’ll ever have the guts to just walk into a jungle not knowing what you might find like Ben did?’ I asked him. ‘Courage, yes, whether I would ever do it myself no. Not everybody will be as lucky as he has been; I rather just go to college and be assured of a good job and maybe even my own company. Doesn’t it sound like a better idea than just gambling with your life, just because you might find some diamonds laying around in the middle of the jungle?’ ‘I guess it does.’ I said We had to get the sand together, since I wouldn’t be able to do such a thing on my own. Dad told us to get the sand from the construction site; this shouldn’t be such a problem since we already took some six-by-tens at the same site the other day. We still proceeded with caution though, the watchman was still around. We approached the gate to the construction site. They were building a flat of some kind, you couldn’t really tell by then whether it was going to be an office flat or an apartment flat. Biff used to tell me that it was going to be an apartment flat for all the rich and famous, so within a few years we could gaze at all the famous people walking by. I could see Biff looking through the gate watching whether it was safe to enter. ‘Is it safe Biff? I said ‘No, not yet! The watchman is sitting there, right in sight. We have to look and see if there’s another way in.’ ‘You remember that one opening in the fence on the west side of the construction site?’ I said. ‘Yea I remember, only thing is, they fixed the fence. Wait, I know another way to get in.’ ‘Where?’ I said ‘It’s only a few hundred yards from here, there’s a big dumpster sitting

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