#abelthcmpson

[verdadurmaz]

location — claret park.

character — @abelthcmpson

Her fingers were curled tightly around the leash and for good reason. As much as she trusted the dog who was happily prancing in front of her, he had a history of pulling out of her grip when he saw something and wanted to go for it. She gave smiles to passing neighbors, some she recognized from the times she'd passed and they'd been working in their lawns and some she'd never seen before. To her surprise, she liked the closeness of the neighborhood and everyone in it. One peek at her phone and a surprise tug later, Zeppelin had managed to stop a runner in his tracks. "Zeppelin, no," she warned, but it was too late. He'd lifted on his back paws and was practically forcing the man into offering attention. "I'm so sorry, he's a jerk. Likes attention," she explained as she pocketed her phone and gently pulled the overly excited dog back. "He probably thinks you have treats, or maybe he wants you to take him on the run," she added, a soft smile playing on her mouth. Maybe if she played it cool, the man wouldn't be angry?

[atlaswilliams]

Location — Farmer’s Market

Character — @abelthcmpson

Two hours stood between him and pick up for his daughter that looked so much like her mother that he often forgot he’d played a hand in her creation. Her blonde hair and blue eyes were a mirrored image of Sage, but the wicked grin and knack for trouble? That was where he’d contributed genetically speaking. With his hands tucked deep into the pocket of his jeans, he bounced from vendor to vendor, happily accepting samples whenever offered, except for the boozy hot chocolate that came in tiny paper cups.

Normally, he would have found solace in a bar. If not to drink, then to shoot a few games of pool or challenge soemone on a darts board, but little about his current routine was normal. The one time he’d lingered in a bar for a friend, he’d walked out at the end of the night with a need for the bottles he hadn’t touched. Thankfully, one trip by the late night coffee shop had been all it had taken to curb the desire.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I squeeze in?” Another round of samples, this time, it was a homemade garlic and parmesan spread on a freshly baked loaf of bread. “Have you tried it yet? It looks good, smells good too,” he added, lifting the sample up with a turning stomach. Even after a handful of samples, he still wanted more. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. Are you from around here?” He brushed one of his palms against the front of his jeans and offered it to the man he’d practically nudged into a conversation.