Break
@phxbom
The evening skies were as ember as ever and it was cold and windy. Weird, because it had been so hot during the day and Dean was at the tattoo parlor, being really busy attending to his customers’ artistic, imaginary, illustrations being turned into reality. And it wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Dean was ready to go home but he decided to stay in a little more and get some templates done for the scheduled customers, before tomorrow arrives.
He sharpened his pencil, placing it behind his right ear before he attentively placed a fresh new sheet of tracing paper over the printed image of a mermaid and taping the edges down. The youngster adjusted his table lamp to a suitable position; it shine perfectly over the sheets. Satisfied, Dean sat on the wooden stool as he waved his two other colleagues good-bye throwing in a small smile whilst he was at it. Right, time to get things done.
He started sketching. And as he sketched, Dean was lost in time right until when he heard his own stomach growled. Yep, he was feeling rather hungry and had thought that a large cup of hot chocolate with a warm cake will help him focus more and get things done a lot faster. Plus, he hadn’t got the chance to have a proper break just yet. Right there and then, he thought about the cafe/bookstore: Moment In Time. He took a quick look at the wall-clock, though unsure of the operating hours of the cafe, Dean was confident he’ll make it, so he hoped, it read: 6:30 pm.
Dean’s parlor was located just down the street where that famous cafe was at and even if he had missed his chance, there were still tons of other convenient stores around for him to get the refreshments he needed. So, he placed the unfinished sketch into his big file, to avoid getting ruined, just in case, as he hopped off the wooden stool. Dean cleared his work space and fished for his keys in the right, front pocket of his jeans. He pulled down the shutter, making a loud rattling sound and a big bang, locking it after. Only to remember that he forgotten to put on his jacket. Dean put on his earphones, played his music and kept his keys whilst tugging his skinny hands into his front pockets as he begun to walked down the street.
He observed the people, and breathe the air, making sure he make the best out of the short break before he have to get back to work, but he quickly had forgotten about work entirely now, that he had walked down the street.
Dean bobbed his head to the rhythm of the post-hardcore music: Introduced Species but not too much because he hates being looked at. He took a right turn after he had rushed across the traffic and another right at the end of the fourth block, just a mile away from that and he would reached the cafe.
