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Post by harlow on Jun 6, 2012 23:49:15 GMT -7
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] we knew we were destined to explode Wednesday. Right in the middle of the week. That was probably one of the laziest days around the coffee shop. Hardly anyone came in during the day since a lot of caffeine addicted teenagers only came on weekends, before school or after school. The adults typically came sometime in the morning, paper in hand, ready to catch up on the local news, gossip with whoever they came with, and sip on whatever over-priced, over-specific order they made. Harlow usually worked the morning shift, mostly because it was the busiest time of the day. She would clock in around five thirty in the morning to do the cleaning before the shop would be open to the public at six thirty. From there Harlow would usually work up until about noon and she would be released from it all. It was actually getting close to it and she was oddly ready to go home and relax, something she only got to do every once in a while. As she washed the counter in the back of the store she imagined having herself a bubble bath while reading an old, worn, book, reliving her life through a character that served a greater one. Her face found a smile at the thought of it all.
As she was drying down the counter she looked over at the three people that were actually inside the building, sipping on their coffee. There was one man, probably in his late twenty’s, with greased hair and hipster classes that she prayed that he only wore ironically. He seemed to be typing away on his computer, as if he was writing up some sort of novel when he was probably just typing a message onto Facebook. That’s what most people did with the internet access here. She nodded her head to herself, looked over the elderly married couple who had been sitting there for at least forty minutes. She supposed it was time to go refresh their coffee if they wanted it.
Traveling over to the counter full of different kettles of brewing coffee, Harlow graved the one that was currently on the cooling ring and walked over to the elderly table with it. "Would you like a refill?" She asked them, their response being a simple wave of his hand and the woman stating something on how they intended on leaving soon. She smiled politely and stared to pull away from them. As her body moved she noticed the third customer inside the place, quietly reading with a mug beside him. To be honest she wasn't even sure if he had touched the mug. The majority of her time working she had been busy cleaning up the back, brewing more coffee and refilling different bags and the baked goods at the front counter. Silently she wondered to herself what she was reading, so she walked over to him.
As she did so she noticed how he was clearly younger than the rest of the people in this building. Although, for the most part, Harlow knew most of the customers that came in around this time she wasn't certain that she had ever seen this boy in here before. Had be been here during other shifts? Was this his first time here? Wow, living in Caroline after five years really was starting to make her get snoopy. At least she didn't verbalize it like the rest of the town tended to. She came up next to him and silently filled up the coffee mug. It wasn't empty, but it also wasn't full either so she figured it might be at a safe place. "Looked like you were getting low," She said, feeling like she was practically talking to herself.
Awkwardly, she went around the front of the table across from the boy and started to make her way around and back to where the found her was. At least, she was about to until she saw what the boy was reading. Her eyes opened wide, surprised to see the book in another person's hand. "Hey," She said, moving a little closer to the boy again, "That's a fantastic read there, have you read it before?" She asked him, excited to hear his response.
words: idek - tags: nathan - notes: there we are! |
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Post by nathaniel james kastra on Jun 7, 2012 19:56:40 GMT -7
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m015ipSavW1qbkillo1_500.gif); height: 230; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m015ipSavW1qbkillo1_500.gif);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] no one's going to take us alive The day was young yet, hours stretched forward before nightfall. There were so many places the time could go, so many things that could happen. Caroline, however, was a sleepy little town. Not much occurred between the hours between dawn and dusk, besides the talk of the town flowing around hot gossip. It wasn't quite summer for the kids in high school, and workers still had there job. Today spoke of laziness, even outside it was bright. Not a day that spoke of activity but rather lazing in the sun, if you could. For Nathan, he found it tough to ever find anything to do. He was now pulling full time nights at the grocery store, finding it harder to make money. That kept him busy, for he had a schedule now of sleeping during the day. On his weekends though, spread sporadically through the month, he had little to do. He'd usually run his shop, even on the days he worked. He didn't need the sleep. Today felt like a day off though, for not many people came to buy books in the middle of the week. There were so many hours before him. Having been plagued by a restless night, he came here, to the small coffee shop. Buying coffee at a shop wasn't usually his ideal, but he felt like he needed to get out of the house. This really was all a facade for him to read a new book he'd gotten his hands on. Almost Moon it was called. He only bought coffee so that the workers would not bother him. It was an embarrassing affair, shuffling up to the counter, ordering a simple black coffee and having to rifle through his worn wallet for the money required. He finally had passed over the single worn bill in his wallet, looking at it rather like he'd keep it. The coffee tasted over-priced.
Books were such magic. Fiction novels could transport you to another world. Non-fiction could as well. But rather then being in another physical dimension you were in a place more of the mind. Trying to understand the authors point, seeing things how they did, learning. Both played a role in Nathans life, more now non-fiction but he found himself attracted to fables now, worlds not his own. He knew what he was running from. He hadn't started Almost Moon yet, but as he read past its first chapter, he found himself entrapped. The novel was smart, and it made him think. His mind was turning over as he lost himself into this woman’s world. Time passed and he didn't notice, hunkering down lower in his seat. It was as if he was becoming the narrator and- “Looked like you were getting low.” What? Nathan blinked, finding himself thrown into the real world and looking at a now full coffee mug. Not that it was very empty before that, he had only taken a few sips. It would be cold by now, though Nathan did not know how long he had been here. He found he didn't care. “Thank you,” he said softly, though the girl was walking away already. Nathan took a careful sip of the coffee in front of him, the taste a shivery lukewarm that made him curl his nose. Tea would have been a better choice.
The book was calling his distracted mind back, haunting his thoughts, but the girl spoke again, drawing his attention. He looked at her then to the relatively new book in his hands, finding himself at a loss for words. Was he fourteen again? “I..” he paused, closing the book carefully and running a hand over the cover. “No, I haven't,” he said, biting his lip. It was a fiction, he never read fictions, not for years. There were only the spare few he read, the good ones. Nathan found most other fictions to have the exact same story line and as time went on it got worse. He pulled himself away from them before many other kids in his class could read half as quickly as him, but he doubted that had changed. This one had been dropped of in his store by an overly rich lady, among several others. She didn't accept the money he offered to pay for them, merely said she was glad her son would leave the books alone now. He'd had a sudden vision of himself at thirteen, all of his books being taken away and hated her. Books were not meant to be thrown away like they were garbage, just a phase a child was going through. Nathan dragged himself to the present, looking at the woman in front of him again. This book had him off in the clouds. 792 | MUSE | i'm going to punch a seagull
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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Post by harlow on Jun 10, 2012 12:03:00 GMT -7
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] we knew we were destined to explode Hypothetically the sorts of people that came into the coffee shop would be the types that Harlow would be able to associate herself with the best. They all seemed to have this deep personality to them where they act like they have seen the world, drinking coffee to settle down, sitting on their laptop to be inspired by the interconnections of the world. Unfortunately, as Harlow found out when she talked to them, a lot of them put on this face as if it was a new fashion statement. Anyone she ever assumed to be interesting usually ended up being fraud that she couldn’t bring herself to talk to about a thing. She hated it. She wanted to start over into a world where she could find people, release herself from the past and re-emerge into some sort of artistic human being but it seemed like there was no longer any hope for her.
It wasn’t very often that a customer would come in with a good book and buy some coffee or baked goods. Most people came in with their friends to socialize, a laptop, or nothing at all and left seconds after they grabbed something to start their day. If someone did come in with a book to read it was usually something childish and off of the best seller’s list. Harlow couldn’t even count how many times she had seen books such as the Twilight Sega, Vampire Diaries, and now more recently the Hunger Games trilogy was thriving. Once upon a time Harlow used to appreciate people reading these novels, proud that someone else was actually taking an interest in them until she found out the only reason that they actually wanted to read them was because of some sort of new movie that was meant to re-enact them. So, she had to bite her tongue as customers with the books walked in. Sometimes they would ask her if she had read them and she would answer as politely as possible but often got sick of the questions.
Taking a look around the room, slightly self-consciously, she felt the room and how dead it was. There would be nothing wrong with her sitting down across from this guy for a moment, would there? Besides, she was going to be off soon anyways, and the one pair of customers was planning on leaving any second. She shouldn’t have to worry about it. Harlow set down the pot of coffee on the table, and found a place across from the boy. “It’s fantastic so far, isn’t it? Wait, how far along are you?” She asked, her voice getting a little shy towards the end. This poor guy, he was a customer and just because Harlow had read the book he currently was spinning through didn’t mean she had any reason to bombard him. What if she said something that could ruin his experience reading the book? She started playing with her nails, scratching at the clear layer of nail polish that had pasted the top of it, a nervous habit she had encountered over the years. She needed to say something, anything to make herself seem less awkward and to justify more of a reason why she would be sitting down when she was at work, “I mean, in general Alice Sebold is a pretty sufficient writer…” She looked up to him hopefully, praying that there wasn’t a strange, judgemental look on his face. What was she even doing?
words: 580 - tags: nathan - notes: meow |
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Post by nathaniel james kastra on Jun 19, 2012 12:35:12 GMT -7
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i141.photobucket.com/albums/r71/maggiesrpstuff/BACKGROUNDS/ea5ncojpg.png); width: 420px; padding-top: 10; padding-bottom: 10; border: #363636 solid 2px;] [div style="background-image:url(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m015ipSavW1qbkillo1_500.gif); height: 230; width: 400; font-size: 0; background: -moz-linear-gradient(bottom, #d5d2d2, rgba(255,255,255,0), rgba(0,0,0,0)), url(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m015ipSavW1qbkillo1_500.gif);[br"]-webkit-mask-image: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, from(rgba(0,0,1,1)), to(rgba(0,0,0,0)));]hi |
[/div] no one's going to take us alive Many of the people that Nathan knew read books for escape. He remembered learning about diffrent kind of books in school, intereperative and escape novels. There was a huge diffrence between the two, and escape novels were vastly more popular. The two were not black and white, however, they often mixed in the center. As books do, they broke the rules. Escape novels were the type to take you away from real life, have a happy ending and in the end, you learned nothing from them and were disapointed when things in real life didn't go well. Interperative novels required much more thought, often ending badly or with death, but sometimes not. It wasn't about going away from the novel feeling good, it was about learning something. Those were the types Nathan enjoyed reading. They were at least like non fiction, but almost better. With fiction novels people could walk away with diffrent perceptions and diffrent thoughts on how the book was and what it meant to them. Though many non fiction novels were fact, there were a few like this as well, based purely on speculation. It was a wonderful thing, even now. Reading the books that made him think would lead him to not have to think about the shit that went on in his life. It was how he got so smart, when he was younger and hiding from everything that was wrong. Even now, he was hiding in a way.
“Oh yeah, yeah, its really good. I usually don't read fiction but her writing is amazing and the main character actually has some depth to her,” Nathan forced himself to stop before he got carried away. Six years and the only thing he could still talk about was novels. It made him comfortable, and not many people here liked talking books. Sometimes in book stores he would get in long conversations with the employees until he realized that they had other things to do and he would have to leave. He caught that the girl had said something else, and had to think about it for a second. Then, he flushed bright red. “Oh, uhm, I just got to the part where Helen...uhmm,” he paused, flipping open the book, reading the last sentence he was on, fumbling with the pages as his face turned a darker shade of red. “I think she just stole a car...”he finished, flipping the book closed. He was only blushing because the stealing of the car was directly after the part where Helen had sex in the same car with her best friends son. Nathan took a quick gulp of his coffee, wishing so much it was warm. Nathan noticed the awkward silence between them. The girl was working, didn't she have to do anything? The coffee shop was relativly empty though, Nahtan realized for the first time, actually seeing his surroundings. She didn't seem to care, and Nathan didn't see a problem. He looked up as she spoke again, the red finally drained from his face. “Is she? I haven't actually had a chance to read any of her other books. I know she got pretty famous for Lovely Bones, but I wanted to read something a little less known before then,” the words flowed with ease, he felt comfortable talking about this. “I'm...Charlie, by the way,” he spoke carefully, lying. It was become so natural now though, he was just aware of it this time. There was something diffrent about this girl, something familiar.
590 | MUSE | sorry it took so long
[/center][/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table] THIS TEMPLATE WAS MADE BY WILMETTA OF CAUTION. [/center] |
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Post by harlow on Jun 20, 2012 15:49:26 GMT -7
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,width: 350px; padding: 10px; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/w6MZf.png);] we knew we were destined to explode
Often times Harlow found it easy to read a book and lose herself. It wasn’t something she generally advertised about herself, especially since she also read the embarrassing teenaged romance novels with female characters that held no depth, no interest, and no insight into real life. They always seemed to act the same, talk the same, and have this stupid air about them because every other character in the book wanted them regardless of how “awkward” the author attempted to make them seem. Who hadn’t read those books every once in a while? But for a while they were all that Harlow could read… of course that was when she was in the orphanage, long before she actually experienced any attempt at a boy being romantic and found out what it really meant… and that was a life time of regrets.
“I know! It’s relieving because the entirety of her as a character is a flaw for the book, she’s actually so believable!” Harlow’s eyes grew wide with enthusiasm. For a moment she tried to imagine herself in Helen’s place, killing her mother who had laid her into a world of depression and how she would act about it. Of course for Harlow she felt a little detached from the character since she had no idea what it was like to even have a real parental figure in her life but it was still something she imagined she wouldn’t be able to escape from no matter how much she physically tried and mentally reflected on. “Oh,” Harlow reflected into her memory of the book for a moment remembering how exactly the main character stole the car, or rather took the car alongside her apparent best friend’s son, “right,” her voice dropped a little looking around trying to think of anything else she could possibly say to this guy about the book before it turned into a complete puddle of awkwardness. “Well that’s a decent way along in the book…” She attempted to say something but felt like it was a drowning attempt that didn’t even need to be stated. She looked up to the guy noticing that he had turned into a shade of red and she quickly looked away hoping that he wouldn’t get even more self-conscious with him realizing that she knew how embarrassed he looked in that moment.
Relieved that the talk of the author was able to subside any further embarrassment she smiled, actually with meaning, “Well, she has only published three books currently, but within those three novels it’s sort of a relief to have real characters…” She thought over what she said for a moment hoping that it made more sense out loud than it had in her head. It wasn’t often that she found herself just speaking before thinking about it but when it came to novels she felt like it was distant enough from real life, distant enough from her own life, that she could openly talk about it without having to worry. “The lovely bones is good, movie is terrible, but I definitely get that, sometimes it’s nice just to have a book to yourself for a while,” Harlow thought about all the times that’s he had read certain books and then the private world she thought she had been introduced to was taken away by over enthusiastic teens “fan girling” over characters within the novels. Maybe it was just the little “hipster” inside of her she imagined everyone else to have.
“Hey Charlie,” She smiled, surprised to actually get a name out of the kid and then pointed to her name tag, “I’m Harlow,” She extended her hand offering a shake and hoped that it didn’t cross any lines. She knew that some people weren’t much of hand shakers or anything but she couldn’t help it, it seemed more polite than doing nothing at all.
words: 580 - tags: nathan - notes: mehh ;p |
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