🌊Rising Tides🌊

III - PHASE ONE

CHAPTER THREE
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Albert Gibson, better known as Mr. Wrinkles to Elizabeth, her father's best friend and a man who didn't care about his age, was the only man she had ever seen keep his wrinkles.

His body told a story, a story of hard work and a well lived life. He didn't bother with all the artificial options to look young that every other person on the sky crafts coveted. He liked looking old, he said it gave him character and she couldn't agree more.

Living a healthy 70 years, Albie mostly kept to himself, shunned for not beautifying himself much like she was and the only one who entertained her adventure fantasies.

He always smelled of cigars and sugar biscuits. Both were meant to be on the 'only on special occasions' list of provisions but he always seemed to have a healthy supply and she was pretty sure it was because he scared the others by taking out his teeth or acting senile. A neat trick really but he didn't scare her. He fascinated her.

Elizabeth actually enjoyed his cigar smell, the tobacco scent reminded her of her father and that's exactly what she needed the morning after her engagement dinner.

She walked quickly through the Sky Craft tunnels, and made her way to Mr. Wrinkles on the 7th floor. She knocked quickly and the door opened automatically. His place was well equipped with the latest high tech so they didn't have to spare anyone to look after him and as far as she knew, she was the only one allowed to come in without scanning in first. Elizabeth's arrival was always welcome, he had said that so many times but she usually arrived after something like a dull dinner or party so she could feel less like a sky craft robot and more like a human.

She walked in and plonked down on the couch in her usual spot that overlooked the ocean and boats from the large glass wall. Mr. Wrinkles wasn't in his spot- the worn chair next to her-yet either.

The room hadn't changed once in the last 10 years she had been coming to visit. The same faded chair with the sugar cookies tin and cigar tin next to it. The same bookshelf along the other wall, no holographic TV, no tablet dock, all the same wearing books. He read a new one every day and on the days she came to visit, he read her book with her. Her father's book. She clutched it in her hands and waited patiently. He would be alerted that she was here and be getting up to greet her but he wasn't as quick as he used to be on his ageing legs.

Mr. Wrinkles' house was similar shaped as her own with the bedrooms and bathroom down the hall, the living space open plan at the front to include the kitchen and dining. It was light and bright, another carbon copy aspect of Sky Craft life but the décor was as far from her own suite as it could be. Generations of his family were framed delicately over all the walls, years of family photos going as far back as the black and white photos her dad had talked about and then further still. Elizabeth admired the photos endlessly, almost like it were the ocean but the photos told stories well before the ocean filled the world, and even decades before that.

Mr. Wrinkles finally made his appearance down the hallway and hobbled straight for his chair, sitting down and doing the only automated thing he would accept. Hot tea. He pressed on his watch that he had argued about wearing before finally giving in and their fresh tea was served by an automated robot that cared for Mr. Wrinkles when he needed something. It was meant to be to fetch his cane and medicine but he liked his tea more. The robot delivered the tea to the little side table that sat between her and Albie then went back to it's dock. Albie opened the sugar cookie tin, dunked one in his tea, bit into it then sighed before turning to her.