BlackAndBlueEyes
10-14-12, 07:34 PM
Solo.
I woke up a half hour after the sun rose over the horizon, casting shadows of tall brick buildings and stone spires into my downtown Radasanth room. Asking for a hot bath to be drawn and a light breakfast of plain oatmeal and toast with orange juice to drink. My meal was brought up by one of the maids, which I quickly devoured. She returned soon after with a small ceramic bowl of hot water for me, setting it on the dresser before taking my empty breakfast plates away. "Your bath will be ready in five minutes, Ms. Freebird," the young girl squeaked on her way out.
With a quick rummaging through the dresser, I produced the cleanest, freshest black long-sleeved blouse top and pair of jeans I owned, along with necessary undergarments. I folded them neatly and placed them on the lilac-print comforter that laid in an unkempt mess on the bed. Turning back to the dresser, I dug my toothbrush and toothpaste out of my traveling satchel and gave my teeth a good once-over. Washing the brush clean and setting it back into the satchel, I went back to my bed and gathered my outfit for the day.
As I left my room, I took a giant gulp of the orange juice, draining the glass. I did not gag.
Nearly forty-five minutes later, I was refreshed and clean and back in my room for some final preparations. I pulled one of my many notebooks out from my beaten leather satchel and began reviewing all of the notes I had written down, making a few changes here and there with a graphite pencil and erasing entire sections that had no business being in the book anymore.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that I had an hour until my appointment with an old friend. I finished scribbling down some last-minute thoughts into my notebook, laced up my black leather boots and left the boarding house.
I was greeted by the scorching summertime sun and busy crowds that littered the cobblestone streets of downtown Radasanth on a weekend. People dressed lightly for midday galavanting, lovers hand in hand taking in the sights or searching for a quiet cafe to grab lunch, mothers haggling fiercely with vendors for the best prices on fresh food. I tucked my notebook under my arm and made my way down the street.
It was a good half an hour walk from the boarding house I was holed up in to the cafe on Janus street, situated about five blocks away from the burned remnants of my old bookstore. I didn't choose the location--my contact was the one who recommended the cafe--but I didn't pause in front of the wreckage to reminisce about the three years I spent there that were ultimately for naught.
I arrived at Lilly Marlene's with plenty of time to spare. The sandwich shop was pretty well-known and well-regarded by the more snobby sandwich connoisseurs that lived in the great Coronian city. From the outside, the place was painted a pristine white and had several quaint tables sitting out front. I gripped the iron handle of the door and pushed it open. The faint tinkle of a silver bell sounded my entry.
On the inside, Lilly Marlene's looked like any other sandwich shop with a feminine namesake. Floral print wallpaper covered the four walls, three of which were also lined with covered tables--each of which had a small vase stuffed with identical flower arrangements. For a weekend, it was a small, nondescript crowd. Along the back wall sat a counter that had various sandwich ingredients set on top of the knife-marked wooden top. There also sat a small iron stove with a flat cooking surface, presumably for grilling purposes.
I was taking this all in when a friendly, familiar voice rang out. "Ah, Maddy! Over here!"
I woke up a half hour after the sun rose over the horizon, casting shadows of tall brick buildings and stone spires into my downtown Radasanth room. Asking for a hot bath to be drawn and a light breakfast of plain oatmeal and toast with orange juice to drink. My meal was brought up by one of the maids, which I quickly devoured. She returned soon after with a small ceramic bowl of hot water for me, setting it on the dresser before taking my empty breakfast plates away. "Your bath will be ready in five minutes, Ms. Freebird," the young girl squeaked on her way out.
With a quick rummaging through the dresser, I produced the cleanest, freshest black long-sleeved blouse top and pair of jeans I owned, along with necessary undergarments. I folded them neatly and placed them on the lilac-print comforter that laid in an unkempt mess on the bed. Turning back to the dresser, I dug my toothbrush and toothpaste out of my traveling satchel and gave my teeth a good once-over. Washing the brush clean and setting it back into the satchel, I went back to my bed and gathered my outfit for the day.
As I left my room, I took a giant gulp of the orange juice, draining the glass. I did not gag.
Nearly forty-five minutes later, I was refreshed and clean and back in my room for some final preparations. I pulled one of my many notebooks out from my beaten leather satchel and began reviewing all of the notes I had written down, making a few changes here and there with a graphite pencil and erasing entire sections that had no business being in the book anymore.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that I had an hour until my appointment with an old friend. I finished scribbling down some last-minute thoughts into my notebook, laced up my black leather boots and left the boarding house.
I was greeted by the scorching summertime sun and busy crowds that littered the cobblestone streets of downtown Radasanth on a weekend. People dressed lightly for midday galavanting, lovers hand in hand taking in the sights or searching for a quiet cafe to grab lunch, mothers haggling fiercely with vendors for the best prices on fresh food. I tucked my notebook under my arm and made my way down the street.
It was a good half an hour walk from the boarding house I was holed up in to the cafe on Janus street, situated about five blocks away from the burned remnants of my old bookstore. I didn't choose the location--my contact was the one who recommended the cafe--but I didn't pause in front of the wreckage to reminisce about the three years I spent there that were ultimately for naught.
I arrived at Lilly Marlene's with plenty of time to spare. The sandwich shop was pretty well-known and well-regarded by the more snobby sandwich connoisseurs that lived in the great Coronian city. From the outside, the place was painted a pristine white and had several quaint tables sitting out front. I gripped the iron handle of the door and pushed it open. The faint tinkle of a silver bell sounded my entry.
On the inside, Lilly Marlene's looked like any other sandwich shop with a feminine namesake. Floral print wallpaper covered the four walls, three of which were also lined with covered tables--each of which had a small vase stuffed with identical flower arrangements. For a weekend, it was a small, nondescript crowd. Along the back wall sat a counter that had various sandwich ingredients set on top of the knife-marked wooden top. There also sat a small iron stove with a flat cooking surface, presumably for grilling purposes.
I was taking this all in when a friendly, familiar voice rang out. "Ah, Maddy! Over here!"