A face lends itself to the light. At first, it appears cold and dark, but as the light grows brighter there appears a smile. Countless years have added a bluish conplexion to the cheeks that rest prominently above the jaw on either side.
Frankie says, “Where is the best place to buy some more time?”
There is evidence of another life form behind the counter. The shopkeeper reaches out his hand to quell the noise. With a glance as if to say: “they can never know,” Edmund removes his awkward existence from potential view.
“What is it you are looking for, exactly?”, the shopkeeper replies.
Frankie himself has a rather sprightly figure, suffusing none of the oddities one would expect from a man asking such an age-old question. As he ponders the response from the shopkeeper, he notices the worry lines on the shopkeeper’s brow, reaching like dangling fingers, from temple to temple.
“Why must I repeat myself,” demands Frankie. “have I come to the right place, or not?”
As his addiction grows cold, the shopkeeper glares back and states, “that depends on how much you are looking for.”
To be continued…