slowandeasy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 17, 2004
- Posts
- 1,135
Closed for Ms. read and myself
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon. A few giddy clouds passed overhead looking a for picnic to rain on, a dozen or so dandelions waved up from between the cracks in the sidewalk, begging for liquid nourishment, and a pair of robins under the eaves of an abandoned warehouse contemplated the construction of a home to raise a brood of babes.
Why Thomas had picked this particular street to walk down, he didn’t know. He had just sort of felt an urge, a pull in that direction. His afternoon walk after work usually took him down Rozecranz blvd. across the railroad tracks left on 4th street and ended up at the beach where he fed the seagulls a loaf of day old bread he had purchased along the way. Then he would watch the sun sink into the Pacific Ocean and go home to his empty apartment.
But not today. Today he had turned right on 4t street and ended up in front of a quaint looking little building. “Interesting.” he thought It didn’t really stand out at first, sort of just blending in with the background. Yet when he looked again he realized that the adjoining buildings were old and weather beaten with doors half off their hinges and windows covered with cobwebs and litter cluttering up their entrances. This building however appeared to be well kept with a freshly painted exterior. The sidewalk in front of it was swept clean, and the roof covered with bright red tiles. The door was a brilliant blue the color of a cloudless sky and above it hung a sign the shape and color of a fluffy cloud. In the middle of the cloud sign was a huge yellow cat, delightfully plump and contented with a huge grin on it’s face. Over the cat's head in lavender letters was the name Alistair’s written in a flowing cursive style. Thomas grinned back and felt again this urge to continue forward. Near the door there appeared to be a plate glass window, but when he came closer he realized it was a mirror reflecting the street behind him where he had come from. It was if he wasn’t even in the scene the mirror was reflecting, he closed his eyes in confusion. When he opened them again his image was now there. He looked again to make sure it was indeed him. He ran his hand through his unrully brown hair and was relieved to see his image did the same. Yes he told himself it is me same soft brown eyes same boyish grin even though he was 25 years old this very day. Same rather tallish thin body and tanned face. Yes it was him and since it was his birthday he decided to go inside and see if there might be a book he would buy just for himself on this very special day.
There was no sign on the door disignating the store hours but when he turned the knob and pushed gently the door opened and he decided he was lucky to have arrived when the store was open. A bell tinkled from somewhere above his head announcing his arrival and he stepped inside. His grin grew bigger when his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside This was his kind of bookstore. Posters and prints adorned the walls and hung from the ceiling every place available was filled with vivid colorful illustrations from every fantasy book that Thomas could think of.
“But where were the books?” Thomas pondered this was a bookstore wasn’t it? But wait, the sign had simply said Alistairs no mention of books. Only that fat orange cat that grinned, adorned the cloud sign outside. Why did Thomas think it was a book store?
“No matter.” he thought. it was a delightful place. If he couldn’t find a book to read at least he could enjoy imagining the stories that these illustrations represented. If only someone were here to help him decide which story he wanted to know more about.
He no more than thought that thought when he heard a rustle of cloth, not from behind him or in front of him or above or below him just there with him in the room.
“Can I help you ?” he heard a voice ask. It was a soft feminine voice that filled the room without an echo.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon. A few giddy clouds passed overhead looking a for picnic to rain on, a dozen or so dandelions waved up from between the cracks in the sidewalk, begging for liquid nourishment, and a pair of robins under the eaves of an abandoned warehouse contemplated the construction of a home to raise a brood of babes.
Why Thomas had picked this particular street to walk down, he didn’t know. He had just sort of felt an urge, a pull in that direction. His afternoon walk after work usually took him down Rozecranz blvd. across the railroad tracks left on 4th street and ended up at the beach where he fed the seagulls a loaf of day old bread he had purchased along the way. Then he would watch the sun sink into the Pacific Ocean and go home to his empty apartment.
But not today. Today he had turned right on 4t street and ended up in front of a quaint looking little building. “Interesting.” he thought It didn’t really stand out at first, sort of just blending in with the background. Yet when he looked again he realized that the adjoining buildings were old and weather beaten with doors half off their hinges and windows covered with cobwebs and litter cluttering up their entrances. This building however appeared to be well kept with a freshly painted exterior. The sidewalk in front of it was swept clean, and the roof covered with bright red tiles. The door was a brilliant blue the color of a cloudless sky and above it hung a sign the shape and color of a fluffy cloud. In the middle of the cloud sign was a huge yellow cat, delightfully plump and contented with a huge grin on it’s face. Over the cat's head in lavender letters was the name Alistair’s written in a flowing cursive style. Thomas grinned back and felt again this urge to continue forward. Near the door there appeared to be a plate glass window, but when he came closer he realized it was a mirror reflecting the street behind him where he had come from. It was if he wasn’t even in the scene the mirror was reflecting, he closed his eyes in confusion. When he opened them again his image was now there. He looked again to make sure it was indeed him. He ran his hand through his unrully brown hair and was relieved to see his image did the same. Yes he told himself it is me same soft brown eyes same boyish grin even though he was 25 years old this very day. Same rather tallish thin body and tanned face. Yes it was him and since it was his birthday he decided to go inside and see if there might be a book he would buy just for himself on this very special day.
There was no sign on the door disignating the store hours but when he turned the knob and pushed gently the door opened and he decided he was lucky to have arrived when the store was open. A bell tinkled from somewhere above his head announcing his arrival and he stepped inside. His grin grew bigger when his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside This was his kind of bookstore. Posters and prints adorned the walls and hung from the ceiling every place available was filled with vivid colorful illustrations from every fantasy book that Thomas could think of.
“But where were the books?” Thomas pondered this was a bookstore wasn’t it? But wait, the sign had simply said Alistairs no mention of books. Only that fat orange cat that grinned, adorned the cloud sign outside. Why did Thomas think it was a book store?
“No matter.” he thought. it was a delightful place. If he couldn’t find a book to read at least he could enjoy imagining the stories that these illustrations represented. If only someone were here to help him decide which story he wanted to know more about.
He no more than thought that thought when he heard a rustle of cloth, not from behind him or in front of him or above or below him just there with him in the room.
“Can I help you ?” he heard a voice ask. It was a soft feminine voice that filled the room without an echo.
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