Where It All Went | 4

“You shouldn’t be reading that.” The man in white spoke again, this time slower and more pronounced.

Lucy had heard him the first time, but that didn’t mean she could move to acknowledge it. She was a true deer in headlights.

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked freakishly similar to a butter knife. Then it lit up into a bright blue light.

That was no butter knife.

Lucy broke out of her frozen demeanor and shot straight up, kicking the book towards him. No book was worth her life. This man was insane and she intended to get him out of her shop as soon as she could.

“Take it, leave,” she said in shaky, yet short words.

The blue light dimmed and he slipped the knife back into his pocket. Grinning with teeth whiter than his attire, he scooped up the book and left shop.

As soon as he disappeared, Lucy scrambled to the door and turned the measly lock. She sighed. That wouldn’t hold anyone back. She unlocked it again and stepped outside. The streets were busy with cars. It was still the morning rush, but she didn’t she anyone dressed in white. In fact, the only person on this street was in a dirty old hoodie and jean jacket.

She ran a hand through her hair, bringing it over one shoulder and turned to get back inside. That, more or less, wasn’t how she wanted her morning to go, but one thing was for sure, she still needed to clean.

And after an hour or four later, the first layer of grime was gone and on Lucy. She was sweating and dirty and pretty sure her face looked like she had just played in the mud.

With all of her things hanging off her shoulder, she darted outside, locking the building behind her. A shower was much needed, so much needed that Lucy failed to focus enough on the sidewalk and into a man she went.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said, immediately bending down to grab a bag that had fallen. She stood up and swung it back over her shoulder.

The man in front of her looked much friendlier than the one from her earlier encounter and that was enough for Lucy to feel comfortable. He had tan skin and wore a dark blue denim jacket that matched his eyes.

Lucy had dirt on her face.

“You’re Lucy Lexington.”

It was a statement and the slight blush on Lucy’s face fell pale. His own expression had turned anything, but friendly.


Having fun with this little story! Thanks for reading!

 

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