Curious

Chapter 1: Palace Doors on Main Street

 CHAPTER ONE: Palace Doors on Main Street

The morning drizzle seemed like hail to Simon Hill as he walked from the parking lot to The Wells Espress café in downtown Seventh Mile Island. Although Simon was originally from London and thus very accustomed to constant rain, the climate on the small Maine island was still quite harsh. The ocean winds combined with rain in the cold of late January made an almost deadly combination.

Mrs. Montgomery was just opening the coffee shop for the day when Simon came up. She attempted a smile, though it came off more of as a grimace, and said, "Hello, Mr. Hill. How are you today?"

Simon grunted in reply, and walked past Mrs. Montgomery into the warm heat of the coffee shop, sitting down at his usual table next to the window overlooking the street.

Mrs. Montgomery was a little miffed at Simon's rudeness. She might have let it go, considering that it was nothing personal—Simon was equally rude to everyone, but she had held a grudge against Simon ever since the first day he walked into her café. She no longer remembered the exact details of the day though her memory had held on tightly to Simon saying that her coffee was only "half-decent." Reminiscing that first encounter—or at least her version of it, she stomped over to the espresso machine to begin making Simon's coffee, silent and with a sullen expression on her face. Two more customers came in and greeted Mrs. Montgomery, her only response being a glare. The residents of Seventh Mile Island often joked that if you wanted to see Mrs. Montgomery smile, you'd have to catch her before Simon Hill did—that is, you'd have to show up at 5:29 am, instead of 5:30 am.

            The espresso machine light blinked red, indicating that the coffee had been successfully brewed. Mrs. Montgomery poured the coffee into a cup, and added cream and sugar. Before she screwed on the lid, she spit into Simon's coffee—her small revenge—and with a satisfied smile, placed it in Simon's hands before going back to her other, nicer customers.

            The coffee shop was silent, except for the soft jazz music playing in the background. It did nothing to lighten Simon's mood. He still drank his coffee like he did everything else, with a disgusted expression on his face.

            A man began to snore loudly in the corner as he waited for his coffee. Simon's hands clenched at the disturbance. He drank up the last few drops of his coffee and then threw the cup at the man. The man jumped awake, looking confused. He saw the fallen coffee cup and then Simon's empty hands. His face cleared.

            "What the hell was that for?" the man shouted.

            "For disturbing the peace," Simon said, and then left.

            The drizzle had changed to outright pouring rain. Simon pulled his hood over his head and ran down the slightly sloping road to where his bookshop was located, four stores down. He stopped to buy the local newspaper from a kiosk and then hurriedly unlocked the store's door and escaped into the relative dryness of his store. He flipped the sign to "open" and turned on the lights.

            Simon owned the local bookstore, the Booktique. It had some fiction books, mainly those on the local high school reading list and a few books published by local presses, but most of the store's profit came from guidebooks and manuals, relating to the picturesque scenery in Seventh Mile Island.

            Simon sat down on the stool behind the counter, and began to read the The Septimus. Though he believed it was full of rumors, it was (sadly enough) the only credible newspaper within a fifty-mile radius. It was true that he could've easily accessed a more reputable newspaper online, as it was the twenty-first century and the age of mass media, but Simon, picky as he was, didn't get the same of feeling on enjoyment he usually got from reading a newspaper when he was staring at a screen. He loved the feel of a newspaper, cherished its smell, and admired its neatness. He could only ever read a newspaper that was in his hands, could only ever enjoy it.