Three Short Introductions
Being homeless wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Warren thought to himself, as he opened up a tin of spaghetti with a rusty knife. Sure, there was the occasional generous person who threw a note or two in his hat as he sat outside the train station holding up his cardboard sign (PleAs giv muNey for fooD), and he did rather not enjoy having to turn up to work at a set time each morning, but apart from those things, it was cold spaghetti and colder weather that was the homeless man's lot, the way Warren saw things.
Still, it wasn't as if anyone had ever recommended homelessness to him, Warren figured, as his dinner found its way to his mouth via a rusty spoon. Mmm, that was better! Not all of it made it in, but what did sure hit the spot. He had once been a carpet salesman, a long time ago now. But when his boss found the hip flask tucked neatly under the seat of his delivery van and discovered the falsified invoices, that was the end of Warren's short career path. Boss was a jerk anyway, Warren thought, interrupting honest enterprise like that.
So for the past 12 years Warren's day involved sitting, sleeping, drinking, pooping, and occasionally fighting, in and around the train station. It was a busy wee place and on a good day he made good money and ate good food. Today had not been a good day, but there were a few late night trains still coming in, which could yield him a few coins to put towards a nightcap.
The squeal of brakes alerted Warren to his next potential payday. He held his sign up in anticipation, and looked ahead, trying to make eye contact with the late night commuters. But this was a busy group, worn from a long day in city offices and factories, grey and drawn, and all focused determinedly on getting home as soon as possible. A quick rustle and squeak as suits and black shoes sped past, and they were gone. Not spare a coin or a note in sight for poor old Warren!
"Stingy blighters!" Warren shouted at their disappearing backs. He looked down disconsolately at his empty hat... yet, it wasn't empty. Warren picked up the purple globe and stared at in slightly intoxicated curiosity. About the size of a tennis ball, the globe pulsated and glowed in his grip. What a strange thing to give a homeless man, he thought.
***
Being manager of a train station wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Jennie thought, as she locked up the ticketing office for the night. Sure, there was a reasonably good salary attached to the role, but all you ever did was hear people's complaints. All day, every day. Why is my train late? Why doesn't my pass work? The homeless man has been peeing on the platform again! Trains hurt when they hit people, and something should be done about it! As if Jennie had any power over those things anyway.
Leaving the office, Jennie glanced over at the corner where Warren liked to spend the night. The drunk old coot was gazing at a purple lightbulb-thingy with a strange look on his face. Jennie headed over to talk to him, when all of a sudden, POOF! - Warren disappeared.
***
Being Overseer of Time, Telekinesis, and people called Timothy wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Skylar thought. Especially not at the moment, for his office was in uproar. Stomping into the main space in his deep blue robes, veins stood out on his neck and his pulse raced as he shouted to his staff. "I WANT SOMEONE TO BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS! THE TIME BENDER HAS BEEN STOLEN, AND SOMEBODY IN THIS OFFICE LET IT HAPPEN!"
Skylar's acolytes all strategically looked "elsewhere" as he shouted. They knew the truth as well as their boss did. The most powerful time-related magical device in the universe had been stolen, and nobody had a clue how, or why, or who by. But one thing was certain - someone in the office had leaked the details of where it was hidden. Nobody else knew about its location.
"Skylar!" A junior analyst shouted. "The Bender has just been used!"
"WHA - WHERE?" Skylar shouted.
The analyst closed his eyes again, and attempted to focus on the location. "Uh... it appears to be a train station, sir!"
"GET US THERE IMMEDIATELY!" Skylar shouted, and the acolytes raced to do his bidding.
What's Next?
Still, it wasn't as if anyone had ever recommended homelessness to him, Warren figured, as his dinner found its way to his mouth via a rusty spoon. Mmm, that was better! Not all of it made it in, but what did sure hit the spot. He had once been a carpet salesman, a long time ago now. But when his boss found the hip flask tucked neatly under the seat of his delivery van and discovered the falsified invoices, that was the end of Warren's short career path. Boss was a jerk anyway, Warren thought, interrupting honest enterprise like that.
So for the past 12 years Warren's day involved sitting, sleeping, drinking, pooping, and occasionally fighting, in and around the train station. It was a busy wee place and on a good day he made good money and ate good food. Today had not been a good day, but there were a few late night trains still coming in, which could yield him a few coins to put towards a nightcap.
The squeal of brakes alerted Warren to his next potential payday. He held his sign up in anticipation, and looked ahead, trying to make eye contact with the late night commuters. But this was a busy group, worn from a long day in city offices and factories, grey and drawn, and all focused determinedly on getting home as soon as possible. A quick rustle and squeak as suits and black shoes sped past, and they were gone. Not spare a coin or a note in sight for poor old Warren!
"Stingy blighters!" Warren shouted at their disappearing backs. He looked down disconsolately at his empty hat... yet, it wasn't empty. Warren picked up the purple globe and stared at in slightly intoxicated curiosity. About the size of a tennis ball, the globe pulsated and glowed in his grip. What a strange thing to give a homeless man, he thought.
***
Being manager of a train station wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Jennie thought, as she locked up the ticketing office for the night. Sure, there was a reasonably good salary attached to the role, but all you ever did was hear people's complaints. All day, every day. Why is my train late? Why doesn't my pass work? The homeless man has been peeing on the platform again! Trains hurt when they hit people, and something should be done about it! As if Jennie had any power over those things anyway.
Leaving the office, Jennie glanced over at the corner where Warren liked to spend the night. The drunk old coot was gazing at a purple lightbulb-thingy with a strange look on his face. Jennie headed over to talk to him, when all of a sudden, POOF! - Warren disappeared.
***
Being Overseer of Time, Telekinesis, and people called Timothy wasn't all it was cracked up to be, Skylar thought. Especially not at the moment, for his office was in uproar. Stomping into the main space in his deep blue robes, veins stood out on his neck and his pulse raced as he shouted to his staff. "I WANT SOMEONE TO BE HELD RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS! THE TIME BENDER HAS BEEN STOLEN, AND SOMEBODY IN THIS OFFICE LET IT HAPPEN!"
Skylar's acolytes all strategically looked "elsewhere" as he shouted. They knew the truth as well as their boss did. The most powerful time-related magical device in the universe had been stolen, and nobody had a clue how, or why, or who by. But one thing was certain - someone in the office had leaked the details of where it was hidden. Nobody else knew about its location.
"Skylar!" A junior analyst shouted. "The Bender has just been used!"
"WHA - WHERE?" Skylar shouted.
The analyst closed his eyes again, and attempted to focus on the location. "Uh... it appears to be a train station, sir!"
"GET US THERE IMMEDIATELY!" Skylar shouted, and the acolytes raced to do his bidding.
What's Next?
posted by Musings | 8:08 PM
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