“Yes sir, right away, sir.”
“Thank you, Philip.”
Philip turned smartly and walked quickly towards the kitchen to fetch his employer a sandwich.
Philip loved being a butler. He loved the uniform, the smart hat, and his refined British accent. He liked taking orders, yet knowing that he was better than those he served. Being a butler was like being in the clergy. He was a non-person and moved in and out of rooms unnoticed. In effect, he owned the house, because he was the only one who knew where everything was and how everything works.
No one knew Philip’s secret. No one knew what Philip was planning, because no one thinks that a butler plans anything or has a life outside of the popular image everyone has of what a butler is.
Philip would be dead in a week, the house he served would be wiped from the face of the earth along with all its occupants. There was nothing Philip could do to stop it, nor would he try to stop it. The clock was ticking, and Philip had a sandwich to make.