Good Monday morning to you all. I hope everyone had a fantastic weekend. I don’t know if it is the shifting weather, but I am feeling a little off balance. But perhaps it is just Monday morning and I am wishing this was a three day weekend. I sort of got spoiled with all of the holidays clustered together. The full work week now seems longer than it did at the beginning of November. But such is life. Shall we get started on this work week? Excellent. Set your timers and let’s get to the first prompt of the week.
Okay I kind of like this one. Not sure where it is going, but I kind of want to find out. A pretty good start for a Monday morning. Makes me hopeful about the rest of the week.
Monday, January 10th: He used the straw to suck up the final remnants of his milkshake.
He used a straw to suck up the final remnants of his milkshake. The sucking sound was loud in the space and he caught many people turning to look at him. He hid his amusement at their attention and continued his efforts to get the very last drop. He knew from their looks that they wanted him gone, that he was an intruder. He could feel the sense of not belonging from the first moment he walked in. Yet he felt oddly safe and secure, despite everything.
He spotted the old-fashioned ice-cream/soda shop from across the street. He was trying to avoid the interstates for this trip across the country and his path ended up winding him through all sorts of interesting small towns. Some looked like they were trying to revamp themselves in an effort to stay relevant in the future, some looked as dead as a door nail. Others, like this one, looked like they were trying to make time stand still.
He couldn’t remember the name of this town, most of them were beginning to blur together at this point. However, he saw the ice cream parlor and had a sudden desire for a strawberry milkshake. The kind that was so thick that each mouthful took real effort and the pungent scent of fresh strawberries filled the nostrils while drinking. Something made with real old fashioned sort of ice cream, heavy on both fat and taste. After too many nights on the road with too many generic meals to count, that sounded like a bit of heaven. So instead of driving back out after gassing up his car, he pulled over and crossed the street to the ice cream parlor.
He could feel their energy fairly radiating from ten feet away. That extra energy that Shifters seemed to give off in waves. It was as though their dual nature created enough energy for two separate beings and then crammed it into one body. He thought about turning around and leaving, but he doubted anyone here would be able to spot him for what he was. As such, they would think he was a normal and he was fairly positive that they would leave him alone until he was ready to leave on his own.
And he still had a powerful desire for that strawberry milkshake.
He continued in, pretending he didn’t feel the prickling on his skin. He was expecting a couple of shifters. He hadn’t realized the place would be packed with all shifters. It was somewhat daunting, but the die was cast. He would play normal, drink his shake and then get back on the road. He ordered and took a seat at the counter. His shake was made immediately and he was fairly certain his order jumped ahead of several others. No one seemed to mind. He realized his estimation was correct. They weren’t happy with him being there, but they saw he was just passing through and would let him go ahead with it.
The milkshake proved just as good as he expected it to. The problem was, he started to feel a pull halfway through the shake. Something deep inside that let him know that as much as he enjoyed the shake, something other than the love of strawberry ice cream made him decide that now was the time to indulge. He recognized the signs, he just wasn’t sure what exactly to do about it. As a norm, the shifters would ignore him and let him go if they suspected he wasn’t normal that could change.
Ten til Midnight 