(no subject)
Date: April 17th, 2001
Status: Private, Shadow and Mr. Nancy
Setting: Some town about an hour away from Lower Tadfield
Summary: Shadow meets up with an old friend.
Shadow took the first bus out of Lower Tadfield that morning and stayed on it until they pulled into a town that looked big enough to get thoroughly lost in and promptly did just that.
He didn’t bother with the names of streets or even with finding out what town he was in. He just walked, up and down narrow streets bustling with cars and pedestrians and sometimes dogs, people watching. He liked people watching; liked to study their dress and the way they walked, to see if they were in pairs or groups or alone, and he would make up stories about them in his head, imagining each person’s ordinary little life, with work and school and home, and bills and groceries and family and all the other little things that made up a normal person’s day.
And then he imagined that each one of them was a god, or an angel, or a devil, or a witch, and that he was the only lone human strolling among them, awkward and out of place.
When he got hungry he bought a couple pasties from a stand. He stopped to give a coin to a female mime who gave him a kiss on the cheek for it, and had a lengthy conversation with a couple of construction workers on their lunch break, and met a family from Indiana who were there visiting a cousin during the two children’s spring vacation.
He purposefully avoided going into any of the clothing stores he passed on his wanderings; like all true American males, Shadow hated shopping, and only did it when it was absolutely necessary, and sometimes not even then. But finally a little shop with a wooden sign caught his eye, and he went in and asked the girl at the counter if they had any trousers in his size, and she said yes and flirted with him as she helped him pick out some different pairs and some shirts too. Of course, he didn’t really need any shirts, but she insisted that they were a very good make and just the right color for him, and Shadow wasn’t sure how to say no to eyes that green.
In the end Shadow left the shop with two pairs of jeans and a pair of slacks, two t-shirts, and Liz’s phone number. “Call me,” she had said, scribbling it on the back of his receipt. “Even if it’s just to talk; your accent’s gorgeous.”
Shadow was hungry again, and decided to seek out a pub next and get dinner and a few beers. He hadn’t gone far, however, when he stumbled across a brightly-lit bar full of people and advertising karaoke in the window. He stopped, looking in at the slightly grimy but nevertheless strangely inviting interior.
Status: Private, Shadow and Mr. Nancy
Setting: Some town about an hour away from Lower Tadfield
Summary: Shadow meets up with an old friend.
Shadow took the first bus out of Lower Tadfield that morning and stayed on it until they pulled into a town that looked big enough to get thoroughly lost in and promptly did just that.
He didn’t bother with the names of streets or even with finding out what town he was in. He just walked, up and down narrow streets bustling with cars and pedestrians and sometimes dogs, people watching. He liked people watching; liked to study their dress and the way they walked, to see if they were in pairs or groups or alone, and he would make up stories about them in his head, imagining each person’s ordinary little life, with work and school and home, and bills and groceries and family and all the other little things that made up a normal person’s day.
And then he imagined that each one of them was a god, or an angel, or a devil, or a witch, and that he was the only lone human strolling among them, awkward and out of place.
When he got hungry he bought a couple pasties from a stand. He stopped to give a coin to a female mime who gave him a kiss on the cheek for it, and had a lengthy conversation with a couple of construction workers on their lunch break, and met a family from Indiana who were there visiting a cousin during the two children’s spring vacation.
He purposefully avoided going into any of the clothing stores he passed on his wanderings; like all true American males, Shadow hated shopping, and only did it when it was absolutely necessary, and sometimes not even then. But finally a little shop with a wooden sign caught his eye, and he went in and asked the girl at the counter if they had any trousers in his size, and she said yes and flirted with him as she helped him pick out some different pairs and some shirts too. Of course, he didn’t really need any shirts, but she insisted that they were a very good make and just the right color for him, and Shadow wasn’t sure how to say no to eyes that green.
In the end Shadow left the shop with two pairs of jeans and a pair of slacks, two t-shirts, and Liz’s phone number. “Call me,” she had said, scribbling it on the back of his receipt. “Even if it’s just to talk; your accent’s gorgeous.”
Shadow was hungry again, and decided to seek out a pub next and get dinner and a few beers. He hadn’t gone far, however, when he stumbled across a brightly-lit bar full of people and advertising karaoke in the window. He stopped, looking in at the slightly grimy but nevertheless strangely inviting interior.