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3ngag3
Supernova
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
- Location
- The Pits of California
In a quaint village in the daytime...
"Thank you, come again," a voice echoes as a customer exits a local bookstore with a book in hand and a satisfied look on his face. It was another successful sale for the local librarian, Claude LeBelle, who had opened this business after moving from the big city a month ago. It seemed like the perfect place for him, really. The people were nice and cheerful, the weather was wonderful year round and most of all, they loved their literature. But as his customers came and went, the young 19 year old felt something was a bit off when he first gazed upon them. They seemed to be worried somewhat. After awhile though, he would pass it off as some kind of personal problem that always seemed to be solved by reading a good book. As long as he was making money, what reason was there for him to complain?
As the day whittled down, Claude was ready to close up shop and take in a good drink at a local bar. It's where most of the guys went to get away from it all, their businesses, their wives and the outside world in general. And as he entered the dimly lit pub, it was evident that all they wanted to do was party as well. Song and dance greeted the young man's ears and for a moment, he thought about joining in. Then he saw the drunken look on their faces and thought otherwise. He knew how these guy would get sometimes, getting wasted out of their gourd. When he would leave, he would see some of them stumbling along the streets, throwing up, pissing here and there and being a general nuisance and he would think to himself how they would come home to their wives reeking of alchohol and getting their rears beaten because of it.
But today felt a bit different. For once, Claude decided to sit at the bar and listen into the conversations of the local travelers. They always had good stories to weave, some true and some as a result of the rum running through their veins. "Oy, did you hear about the kidnappings last week?" One of them called out. "They say some kind of demon's been taking men back to that cursed castle in the mountains and eating their bones!" It was another farcical story to be sure. Such things as demons were only works of fiction like in the books Claude sold at his shop. It was probably the work of a gang of hoodlums or something. But despite that, the story did seem interesting. Perhaps he could write his own book about it and make a mint off of it.
When he finally left the bar, Claude was a bit tipsy. He had three, maybe four beers and it was having an effect on his equilibrium. He stumbled back and forth through the alleys, trying to make his way back home where hopefully, he would sleep his liquor off, have a throbbing headache in the morning and hope that he wasn't too bad off to sell some more books. It was just another day in the life of a simple librarian...
"Thank you, come again," a voice echoes as a customer exits a local bookstore with a book in hand and a satisfied look on his face. It was another successful sale for the local librarian, Claude LeBelle, who had opened this business after moving from the big city a month ago. It seemed like the perfect place for him, really. The people were nice and cheerful, the weather was wonderful year round and most of all, they loved their literature. But as his customers came and went, the young 19 year old felt something was a bit off when he first gazed upon them. They seemed to be worried somewhat. After awhile though, he would pass it off as some kind of personal problem that always seemed to be solved by reading a good book. As long as he was making money, what reason was there for him to complain?
As the day whittled down, Claude was ready to close up shop and take in a good drink at a local bar. It's where most of the guys went to get away from it all, their businesses, their wives and the outside world in general. And as he entered the dimly lit pub, it was evident that all they wanted to do was party as well. Song and dance greeted the young man's ears and for a moment, he thought about joining in. Then he saw the drunken look on their faces and thought otherwise. He knew how these guy would get sometimes, getting wasted out of their gourd. When he would leave, he would see some of them stumbling along the streets, throwing up, pissing here and there and being a general nuisance and he would think to himself how they would come home to their wives reeking of alchohol and getting their rears beaten because of it.
But today felt a bit different. For once, Claude decided to sit at the bar and listen into the conversations of the local travelers. They always had good stories to weave, some true and some as a result of the rum running through their veins. "Oy, did you hear about the kidnappings last week?" One of them called out. "They say some kind of demon's been taking men back to that cursed castle in the mountains and eating their bones!" It was another farcical story to be sure. Such things as demons were only works of fiction like in the books Claude sold at his shop. It was probably the work of a gang of hoodlums or something. But despite that, the story did seem interesting. Perhaps he could write his own book about it and make a mint off of it.
When he finally left the bar, Claude was a bit tipsy. He had three, maybe four beers and it was having an effect on his equilibrium. He stumbled back and forth through the alleys, trying to make his way back home where hopefully, he would sleep his liquor off, have a throbbing headache in the morning and hope that he wasn't too bad off to sell some more books. It was just another day in the life of a simple librarian...