Post by Dr. Xavier Foster on Aug 8, 2009 2:36:16 GMT -7
Date: March 6th, Friday, Week One
Time Frame: Evening
Place: Downtown Trenton, NJ
Status: Open
He hadn’t meant to stay late at the little shop but it happened nevertheless. He also hadn’t mean for the simple evening to turn out like it did, but hey, he was lucky that way. The evening had started out normal, as normal as it was for Xavier. He had just settled on the couch, his record player scratching along to Earth Angel and the latest edition of Readers Digest he brought with him on his move. Littered around his apartment was a mini scale replica of the great wall of China of unpacked boxes. He folded his long legs under him and pulled the blue afghan up to his chin and absently reached for the cup of earl grey on a nearby box. Beside him, the calico Manx Zelda lounged and stared at the two other cats across the room as they ventured out of his bedroom.
A loud knock on his door sent all three felines skittering and while he pondered who it could be, he dog-eared the page he was on and got up to answer it. It had been his ex to weasel more money out of him, she had been there no more then two days ago for a hundred, said she needed to buy their son some new clothes. Now it was extra twenty because Elijah lost his inhaler. She left with an extra fifty she pocketed when he wasn’t looking to get her a glass of water. Xavier rubbed his cheek where she had left a smear of lipstick, standing on her tiptoes to reach him but the simple love peck was nothing but love. From underneath his afghan, Bill the orange tabby took over his spot as his master wandered around the small apartment to gather his coat, slip on some shoes and grab the set of keys on the counter before heading out.
He left on Johnny Cash’s A boy named Sue to keep his cats company and headed out, his inner sanctuary disturbed. He hit the pavement on foot, leaving his station wagon for work tomorrow evening. His feet and mind were on two separate wavelengths and while his mind had taken a course to mull over her ex and son, his feet had lead him towards some of the smaller and less crowded shopping centers of downtown. It was fate just as he looked up to cross the street and spotted a vintage store window filled with odds and ends, books bound in leather, an old record player and what looked to be a Macintosh portable computer from the 1980’s that probably weighed more then all his cats combined. He stopped, backed a step up and raised his hands to peer through the hazy window and saw vague shapes of bookcases. That was all that was needed and the man peeled himself from the window and opened the front door, hitting a bell that chimed his presence.
Three hours later, the little old shop keep found him sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a growing pile of books beside him. An old text of divine precognition was open on his lap and he had another book of human anatomy of the 17th century. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the suit of armor across from him or the fetus of an unknown animal floating in a jar. Foster looked up with a dull expression when the shopkeeper finally raised her voice to a booming level and even then it took him a moment to register she was talking to him.
“I’m sorry ma’am, what did you say?”
The woman huffed and set her hands on her hips before dropping them. She smiled, exposing crooked and yellow teeth at the prospect of selling her collection of odds and ends. “Have you found everything you need?” The raspy voice oozed with fake sincerity. “Perhaps a pictures frame for a family photo or jewelry for your wife?” It was easy to take notice of the ring on his finger. She waved a bony hand and drew the knitted shawl up around her shoulders. From beneath the heavy folds of her skirt, her legs twisted awkwardly and she momentarily gritted her teeth, baring them in another smile as the man missed the odd flutter of green around her eyes as if the pale makeup of her skin had run.
“Oh, well… thank you,” he replied, drawing out the appreciation as he thought how to explain that he wasn’t married anymore. Foster closed the book he was reading with a snap and unfolded his long limbs, wincing and reached forward to rub at the pins and needles jabbing his legs. “But, you see, I’m no longer married and that doesn’t essentially mean I cannot buy my ex wife jewelry, but,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a perfectly logical assumption since I do wear my ring on my left hand though tradition says I should either wear it on my right or take it off completely.”
“Actually I think it’s stuck and I haven’t been to get it off even with olive oil though I have thought about vegetable oil since most today are synthetics. The chemical compositions might allow for a slicker surface but then again, they say olive oil is better for you.” The man paused and raised a finger to tap his chin. “not sure, who they are.”
The elderly shopkeeper stared. “… If you need anything, I will be in the back.”
He was instantly pulled from his inner musings and absently smoothed out the wrinkles of the jacket he had shed an hour ago when he started to get warm. “O-okay. Thank you ma’am.” Foster leaned forward to watch the retreating figure of the woman from where he sat on the floor. “I promise not to steal anything either!” He called after her. “Not that I actually do. I’m not that kind of a person but… okay.” With a glance around him, he realized he was talking out loud to himself with a couple across the way staring at him.
“Evening?” The couple moved on, setting their things down as they quickly exited the store, leaving Foster to shrug his shoulders and reopen the book he was reading.
Time Frame: Evening
Place: Downtown Trenton, NJ
Status: Open
He hadn’t meant to stay late at the little shop but it happened nevertheless. He also hadn’t mean for the simple evening to turn out like it did, but hey, he was lucky that way. The evening had started out normal, as normal as it was for Xavier. He had just settled on the couch, his record player scratching along to Earth Angel and the latest edition of Readers Digest he brought with him on his move. Littered around his apartment was a mini scale replica of the great wall of China of unpacked boxes. He folded his long legs under him and pulled the blue afghan up to his chin and absently reached for the cup of earl grey on a nearby box. Beside him, the calico Manx Zelda lounged and stared at the two other cats across the room as they ventured out of his bedroom.
A loud knock on his door sent all three felines skittering and while he pondered who it could be, he dog-eared the page he was on and got up to answer it. It had been his ex to weasel more money out of him, she had been there no more then two days ago for a hundred, said she needed to buy their son some new clothes. Now it was extra twenty because Elijah lost his inhaler. She left with an extra fifty she pocketed when he wasn’t looking to get her a glass of water. Xavier rubbed his cheek where she had left a smear of lipstick, standing on her tiptoes to reach him but the simple love peck was nothing but love. From underneath his afghan, Bill the orange tabby took over his spot as his master wandered around the small apartment to gather his coat, slip on some shoes and grab the set of keys on the counter before heading out.
He left on Johnny Cash’s A boy named Sue to keep his cats company and headed out, his inner sanctuary disturbed. He hit the pavement on foot, leaving his station wagon for work tomorrow evening. His feet and mind were on two separate wavelengths and while his mind had taken a course to mull over her ex and son, his feet had lead him towards some of the smaller and less crowded shopping centers of downtown. It was fate just as he looked up to cross the street and spotted a vintage store window filled with odds and ends, books bound in leather, an old record player and what looked to be a Macintosh portable computer from the 1980’s that probably weighed more then all his cats combined. He stopped, backed a step up and raised his hands to peer through the hazy window and saw vague shapes of bookcases. That was all that was needed and the man peeled himself from the window and opened the front door, hitting a bell that chimed his presence.
Three hours later, the little old shop keep found him sitting on the floor, cross-legged with a growing pile of books beside him. An old text of divine precognition was open on his lap and he had another book of human anatomy of the 17th century. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the suit of armor across from him or the fetus of an unknown animal floating in a jar. Foster looked up with a dull expression when the shopkeeper finally raised her voice to a booming level and even then it took him a moment to register she was talking to him.
“I’m sorry ma’am, what did you say?”
The woman huffed and set her hands on her hips before dropping them. She smiled, exposing crooked and yellow teeth at the prospect of selling her collection of odds and ends. “Have you found everything you need?” The raspy voice oozed with fake sincerity. “Perhaps a pictures frame for a family photo or jewelry for your wife?” It was easy to take notice of the ring on his finger. She waved a bony hand and drew the knitted shawl up around her shoulders. From beneath the heavy folds of her skirt, her legs twisted awkwardly and she momentarily gritted her teeth, baring them in another smile as the man missed the odd flutter of green around her eyes as if the pale makeup of her skin had run.
“Oh, well… thank you,” he replied, drawing out the appreciation as he thought how to explain that he wasn’t married anymore. Foster closed the book he was reading with a snap and unfolded his long limbs, wincing and reached forward to rub at the pins and needles jabbing his legs. “But, you see, I’m no longer married and that doesn’t essentially mean I cannot buy my ex wife jewelry, but,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a perfectly logical assumption since I do wear my ring on my left hand though tradition says I should either wear it on my right or take it off completely.”
“Actually I think it’s stuck and I haven’t been to get it off even with olive oil though I have thought about vegetable oil since most today are synthetics. The chemical compositions might allow for a slicker surface but then again, they say olive oil is better for you.” The man paused and raised a finger to tap his chin. “not sure, who they are.”
The elderly shopkeeper stared. “… If you need anything, I will be in the back.”
He was instantly pulled from his inner musings and absently smoothed out the wrinkles of the jacket he had shed an hour ago when he started to get warm. “O-okay. Thank you ma’am.” Foster leaned forward to watch the retreating figure of the woman from where he sat on the floor. “I promise not to steal anything either!” He called after her. “Not that I actually do. I’m not that kind of a person but… okay.” With a glance around him, he realized he was talking out loud to himself with a couple across the way staring at him.
“Evening?” The couple moved on, setting their things down as they quickly exited the store, leaving Foster to shrug his shoulders and reopen the book he was reading.