"I wanna go home," I whispered.
"It's past 1," I thought, "Mark has bound to already posted something." It got on my nerves. I had just moved to L.A. several weeks ago. This city has the best classes I can take for my traditional art, and also had an open job for computer animation for a video game.
My day of work usually ended at 2:30. I was happy with my job, the only downside was that I got distracted easily mid-work, which was the case today.
It then became 2:30; I immediately collected my things and left the building. On my way to my apartment complex, I noticed that it was particularly warm. It felt wonderful. Wanting to keep this pleasure, I decided to take a longer route home, only having to walk a few extra blocks.
While on the sidewalk, I took my phone out to check and maybe update my twitter. Before I woke it up, I noticed someone in the reflection of my black screen. It was Mark. He was on his phone, typing. It was hard to look at him and in front of me at the same time, so I occasionally looked in the reflection of my phone.
I started looking at him more intently through the reflection, dazing into how I could greet myself when, or if, I turn around; but me being the klutz I am, I ended up hitting a pole and all of my files fell onto the cement.
I fell completely to the ground, feeling spikes of pain everywhere on my body. I hissed in pain as I heard footsteps come from behind me. My face was currently in my knees, with my hands on my face. The footsteps came to front of me and stopped. I felt two hands raise my head up, and then hearing the words,
"A-are you okay?"
I sat up to my knees in pain.
"N-no, I'm- I'm perfectly fine."
I started to bend over and pick up the papers that were scattered across the sidewalk.
"Here, let me help you," he insisted as he started to pick up the papers as well. Mark noticed a sketch of one of the characters I'm currently animating. He stopped what he was doing and asked,
"Did you draw this?"
I looked for a quick second, trying to collect the rest of the papers.
"Yes, I drew it; but the drawing itself isn't my own."
"How so?" Mark asked, curious. He handed me the stack he had put together of unorganized sketches and codes. I put all of the papers in my bag and stood up.
"I'm given a drawing. I re-draw it, then animate it," I explained. "What you saw there was a character I'm animating for a video game."
Marks expression changed immediately. He looked like a kid in a candy store. I knew he would have been at least some-what impressed with my occupation. Mark looked around and caught his eye on a coffee shop down the block. He pointed to the shop.
"Let's go get some coffee and talk. I'd really like to learn more about what you do for a living."
"Oh, um, okay" I muttered, and walked with him.
