Look, friend, at the universe
With it's spiral clusters of stars
Flying out all over space
Like bedsprings suddenly busting free;
And in this galaxy, the sun
Fissioning itself away,
Surrounded by plants, prominent in their dignity,
And bits and pieces running wild;
And this middling planet
With a lone moon circling round it.
Looks friend, through the fog of gases at this world
With its skin of earth and rock, water and ice,
With various creatures and rooted things;
And up from the bulging waistline
To this land of concrete towers,
Its roads swimming like a hive cut open,
Offshore to this island, long and fished shaped,
Its mouth to a metropolis,
And in its belly, this village,
A gathering of families at a crossways,
And in this house, upstairs and through this wide-open door
Of the front bedroom with a window on the world,
Look, friend, at me.
By Edward Field
It had been one of those days. Long and boring, and she sat at the front desk of her shop tapping a pen on one of the books surrounding her. She needed to do something, and sitting in the bookshop was not it. There was a yell from the back and she stood up and pulled the shotgun from under her desk. Lala ran from behind the curtain chasing something with a broom.
"What’s wrong," she yelled while walking over to where she was. There was something small and white running around the floor and Lala was desperately trying to hit it with the boom. Cloe sigh and grabbed her shoulder.
"What’s the matter," she asked again and Lala pointed to the floor.
"There’s a mouse in here," she all but whispered, "I’m trying to catch it." Cloe shock her head and looked down at the floor for the fuzzy, white rodent.
"Don’t kill it," Cloe said while putting the shotgun back, "It’s only fluffy."
Lala looked up at her, "Fluffy?"
Cloe nodded, "One of the mice my father bought for the lab. It was a runt so he let me have it. Maybe he should have kept him cause he seems to be smart enough to get out of his cage." She saw the mouse dart across the floor and she quickly cast Sleep on it.
"Poor Fluffy," she said while she bent over and picked him up, "Back upstairs for you." She disappeared behind the curtain and Lala sighed heavily. Yep, it was one of those days.
Cloe came back and sat at her desk and began to stack and organize the papers surrounding her. Lala walked over and leaned on the front of the desk.
"If I had know that it was going to be so boring today I would have called in sick," she said while playing with a lock of her hair. Cloe shrugged, "Well I can’t help the fact that it’s a weekday and everyone has lives and most of them don’t read." Lala stared out the window at the people walking by.
"Isn’t it time for lunch yet," Lala wined while resting her head in her arm. Cloe shook her head, "Nope. Not even close." She stood up straight and fixed her cloths, "I’m going to take a nap."
"Now if I were any other boss and you said that to me then I would have fired you," Cloe said while picking up a magazine and thumbing through it.
"Yeah, well," Lala shrugged, "What are ya gonna do about it?" Cloe looked back at her and stuck her tongue out at her.
"Whatever," Lala said while pushing the curtain back, "Wake me up in half an hour, or if something interesting happens." Cloe nodded and looked back at her magazine. Not that there was going to be anything interesting happening anyway. Without Lala with her the shop had gotten way to quiet. She got up while still looking at her magazine and silently maneuvered her way through the boxes on the floor to the radio. It was a pain moving. Especially when you had to move everything in your house and your place of business. But she had found a nice little coffee shop with a two-bedroom apartment above it right in the middle of the Neo-Midgar. And it was closer to her father’s hospital so she could be over there bugging her parents whenever the urge came over her. And maybe the possibility of caffeine would attract people to her bookstore.
Cloe turned the radio on and headed back for her desk when the bell on the door rang. She didn’t look up right away, but when she didn’t hear any footsteps she frowned and turned to the door.
"Davie, I thought I told you to... Oh,’ she looked at the person in front of her and blushed, "I’m sorry, I thought you where someone else." She closed her magazine and pushed her glasses up on her nose. Remembering her manners she smiled at the person in all black, "How may I help you?"
"I’m looking for a book," he said. She nodded and walked over to her computer and looked back at him. He was still standing a few feet away from the door, "Pardon the mess," she said staring at the boxes, "It’s a pain when you have to move. Would you like to sit down? I can go get a chair for you."
"No thank you," he replied, "I’m alright." She shrugged, "What kind of book are you looking for?"
"A spell book," she looked at him then started typing on the keyboard.
"A spell book," she said, "I don’t hold any of my spell books here. As a safety precaution I store them someplace else. Is there a specific spell book you are looking for or are you just looking for spell books?"
"I’m looking for a spell to get rid of something," he replied.
"Get rid of what," She asked, "I can’t just let you have a spell with out good cause." He looked down and she saw his metallic claw hidden under his coat.
"I am trying to get rid of a demon. One that has plagued this earth for far too long. And I don’t know how. The only thing I can think of right now is a spell of some sort. "
"I don’t know," She said, "I usually don’t deal with spells. Now if it were materia it would be different. I don’t deal with spells because the out come is always unpredictable. But I have a friend who may know something about what you’re looking for. She’s a fortuneteller in Icicle Inn, and she does a lot of things with spells. I’ll be more then glade to contact her for you and get some information. But I can’t promise you anything."
He nodded, "Let me take down your number so I can contact you once I get her."
"I don’t have a phone," he said. She bit her bottom lip and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, "Well her is my PHS number. Call me in a couple of days and see if I have anything." She held out the paper and he walked over and took it form her.
"Thank you," he said softly before turning on his heal and heading for the door.
"You’re welcome," she called after him. She plopped down in her chair. The bell over the door rung as he walked out, "Wait," she hopped up, "What’s your name?" But it was too late, he was already gone. She sat back down in the chair and sighed. That was weird. She needed a break. Maybe it was time for lunch. She looked at her watch them remembers Lala. It was almost time to wake her up. She got up and head for the back.