Chapter One: The Ruckus

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Wake Up

The sound of squealing brakes in the street shattered the tidal rhythm of the traffic that washed through the apartment bedroom just over the intersection at Spadina and King. A largish lump on the black steel frame bed shifted as the sound of crumpling metal erupted from below. The deco pattern of the rumpled sheet suddenly sprang to life, as the bed's occupant sat bolt upright and struggled to get his bearings. The look of dissatisfaction on his face showed flashes of uncertainty and dismay, as if he were trying to remember who he was, and not liking the answers he was getting. Staring hopelessly around the room at dressers covered in old magazines, news clippings and empty liquor bottles didn't promise much of a rebuttal. It all had an air of correctness, but that wasn't a good thing.

The man decided to give up on name recognition games. He wasn't much liking who his brain was identifying, and it looked like there was no getting out of it. The clock was bad news, too. 3:46 pm. Blanket Monster nearly won again. Bastard. Office should have opened hours ago. He was really going to have to invest in a better alarm clock. Or a dog. Dogs didn't stand for late meals. They got surly and started in with the cold nose. Too bad he didn't like dogs, either.

Lurching towards the open window nearest the sound, he glanced down into the street to see a small man in a blue uniform blasting hot air at a huge lunk of a guy who looked like clothing never fit him right, loose and tight in all the wrong places. He looked uncomfortable as the little man abraded him. Beside them, the brown sedan looked like the victim of a food chain experiment with the large delivery truck purporting to be from Broadman's Furniture Emporium over on Hughson.

The car's back bumper was impacted partway into the trunk space, and the hood had folded up and popped open, perhaps in response to the need to replace the blown front left hand tire. The big man had the hangdog look of someone who was settling into the familiar feeling of having no luck at all. The little man was pressing his advantage beyond all sense, since the front end of the truck was only slightly dented. The man in the window noted with satisfaction that no glass was broken. Then he heard something extraordinary: a wolf whistle.

On the corner nearest the accident, a pair of women in patterned summer dresses were looking up at him and waving excitedly. Looking down briefly, he noted that he had forgotten to put on some boxers. These tall windows were affording a view nice ladies really shouldn't be enjoying. One of the gals, a blonde in a red-on-white floral pattern, looked a bit dismayed, but the brunette in the blue polka dots was positively animated, large grin splitting her candy apple red lips. Neither was looking away though, and the rest of the street’s denizens were starting to look up as well, so he decided to search for some pants. He distinctly heard another whistle behind his back before he found his clothing rumpled on the beat-up easy chair beside the window nearest the bedroom door. Something about this neighbourhood, he thought to himself sourly.

Pulling It Together

After the shirt was tucked in and the shoes were tied, the body made its way to the door at the other end of the hall. Visions of warm coffee were dancing in his head, and the raging debate was whether to take a trip down to Estelle's Diner, or just conjure up some sludge in the office coffee percolator. Checking his pockets for loose change and coming up with the proverbial nickel and dime, he concluded that getting paid might be in order first.

Slipping carefully down the crooked stairs, he bent to retrieve the mail and daily paper jammed in the slot of the wooden door. Stuffing the loose bundle under his arm, he grappled with the door, which hung askew after an attempted burglary a few weeks earlier. He still hadn't solved that particular mystery, but suspected it had been his landlord, whom he'd neglected to inform of the security measures he'd installed. They'd gone away empty handed, in any case. Everything of value was already in hock.

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⏰ Last updated: Jul 12, 2013 ⏰

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