Pierre sat in the bookstore’s coffee shop, leaning over one of Shakespeare’s most brilliant works. His eyes sparkled with an excitement beyond that which he felt in everyday life. Those who had met him knew that he often spoke in a monotone voice, and that his eyes were dull and unconcerned - at times, he seemed like a person who had been numbed by years of seeing things people shouldn’t.
Literature was a release. It was the extemporaneous element of his life - the classics that brought his mind out of its hollow shell and filled his empty time with activities bountiful in meaning and significance. Never will there be a villain quite like Iago, Pierre thought to himself. Even hell has trouble matching the brilliance of Shakespeare’s villains.
Pierre took note of the page and line number where he had stopped, then gently closed the book. He looked up from the table he was seated at. At another table across the coffee shop sat an old lady reading from a religious self-help book. The sparkle left Pierre’s eyes and was replaced by a morbid sadness. He watched the old lady for a long time, unmoving.
His task was a heavy one, and unending. Every seven seconds on average, a mortal died. Pierre had the task of determining how each and every human would die, and it wasn’t a pretty one. He was aware of the grisly details of every death, and he often had to make them grisly. Balance had to be maintained in the world, at least to some degree. Some people would die of old age, others would die from explosions or gunshots, and some would be raped to death. It was not something he enjoyed… It was simply something he had to do.
This old lady’s time had come. In a matter of minutes, she would finish reading her book. She would go to the front of the store, buy the book, and walk outside. Shortly after walking outside, she would pause for a moment and place a hand over her heart. She would be unable to breathe, and then she would fall down and die of a heart attack compounded by a stroke.
The lines of fate had been drawn. His eyes still morbid, Pierre looked back down at his book. The lives of millions of people were going through his mind. When he wasn’t reading, he was sorting out the fates of mortals… He paused the decisions and picked up the play once more, continuing his reading.
As Bianca washed the counter, she couldn’t help but notice a man sitting reading a book. It wasn’t unusual, considering the coffee shop’s location, but this particular man caught her interest. Not many people would be sitting reading a classic novel or staring at an elderly woman in the room. Apparently, he was different than the men who usually came in here. Typically, the men would come in here, all high and mighty, and hit on her while trying to rush off to work. Not exactly her favorite type of person.
Eventually, she made up her mind to go and talk to him. It wouldn’t be the first time she approached a customer simply because she was bored, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Sometimes, that was how you could make new friends. Though she hated to interrupt him while he was so entranced in his book, she didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity to meet someone new.
“Hey,” she said simply when she reached where he was sitting, “I don’t really think she’s your type,” she added nodding towards the old woman. She winked, letting him know that she was kidding about it. She didn’t want to offend someone the second she met them. She noticed the title, then. Putting her hand on the table and leaning on it, she smiled. “Not one of his that I’ve read. I was a big Hamlet fan, though.”
ooc//I would love to para right about now:)
Well hello there darling. Would you like to para?
YES! I would love it. Could you start?:)
Could you start? I have to take my dog out for a walk before he pees on my floor. unless you don’t mind waiting?
I don’t mind waiting haha. I’m getting ready right now to go out for dinner soon.
ooc//I would love to para right about now:)
Well hello there darling. Would you like to para?
YES! I would love it. Could you start?:)
