Day 4: “French Vanilla”

| November 5, 2011 | 0 Comments


“She stared up at the building with a trace of despair, a slip of paper in one hand and her purse in the other. The landlord had told her that it was a dreary building, but she was in no way prepared for the sight with which she was greeted. The paint was peeling from the window sills, the tiles were falling off the roof, and the numbers above the doors hung slightly askew.

She stepped back to the cafe on the other side of the street and ordered a coffee. As she drank, she looked at the paper she had with her. It promised an apartment with cheap rent and a street view. She didn’t really care about the rent or the state of the apartment, she just needed somewhere with her name on the letterbox. She wanted to get away from the world, away from overly curious people who cared about her and her life. Tomorrow, she would rent out another place, on the other side of town, under a completely different name.

Many people thought they knew her, but they only knew what she let them see of her. Each person came to know a different version of her. She learned to become like this out of necessity from a very young age, trusting nobody and expecting those around her to show the same level of mistrust.

She plucked a toothpick out of the canister on the table and chewed on it absent-mindedly.

She supposed that one day she would make friends again. She couldn’t live her whole life without

people, but for now she would give it a good shot.

Glancing at the clock on the wall of the cafe, she saw that she had five more minutes before she had to walk through those doors and become yet another version of herself. Hopefully, she would not have to keep this one up for long. She did not have the energy to do this much longer.

Standing up, she left her coffee untouched on the table. Carefully, she smoothed her dark blonde hair back under her hat and left the cafe.

Crossing over once again to stand front of the building, she looked at it with a different perspective. Perhaps this was indeed the wrong thing to do. No matter what though, it was necessary.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself before stepping through the doors.”

 Words: Lana, Art: Julian (Tosche)

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Category: 2011, Drama, Humor, Steampunk

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Gentleman cartoonist, illustrator, writer and podcaster. Powered by the magic of tea, coffee and painkillers.

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