Suburban Dream

1 - Part Time Jobs

Leaves blew across the pavement, their colors a rainbow of golden and fiery tones. They curled through the air, skittering against the concrete, on a quest of mystery and intrigue. The mid-day sun shone high ahead, gray clouds dimming its strength.

A singular leaf fluttered away from the others, straying out of the tornado of foliage that raged across the street, instead flying its way over past a tall metallic sign. "Orelwell" was written on it in black standard font, but it was covered in the orange that came with rust and several holes from hail and weather.

A car passed, a shiny Chrysler Lebaron with a bright thunderbird red paint job. The license plate read "LM-6954", with the standard Oklahoma markings on the sides. It was new, evident by the lack of cracks on the windshield and blemishes in the paint. You didn't see those often in Orelwell. Not from the average folk, anyway.

The car drove down the road, passing a building. It was a gas station cafe, shaped like a triangle, gifted with a cyan paint job and a bright pink accent piece that looped around it, angling upwards in the corner. A massive neon sign named the place. "Fran and Maxwell's Cafe" was written in large, loopy letters. A large overhang covered the gas pumps, separated from the building itself by a double lane parking lot filled with a dozen cars. One thing was for certain, it was a popular joint.

The car continued on its path along the meandering road leading into town, an agglomeration of around 7 000 people nestled in a valley. The hills formed walls as though to protect the inhabitants, an enormous expanse of pine trees, oaks and hundreds of other species of trees and nature. A large highway cut through the woods, settled in a dip in between the hills. The town in itself was mostly settled in the valley floor, houses and streets hiking up the hills in sometimes steep inclines.

A quiet and lazy air flowed throughout the town, the early Monday afternoon just barely setting in its grasp on the citizens of Orelwell. Despite the date (the first Monday of fall break, the 7th of October), barely any teenagers could be seen roaming the streets, seemingly taken over by fatigue and the overwhelming urge to sleep in. No, the biggest of the population of the streets were elders, slowly making their way through the streets in leisurely motions. Quiet chirping of birds and cars rolling past were the only noise, a quiet and slumbering aura engulfing the town. Town center wasn't much better, more people going about their daily tasks there but not enough to bring the town truly alive.

Small shops lined the street, forming walls several stories high. Dozens of colors flowed over the scenery, from the eye-catching storefronts to flower baskets hanging from walls over the street. It was a slow day for business, but the store owners kept their shops dutifully open due to some sense of abstract responsibility. A few cars were parked along the road, most looking old but well taken care of.

A sweet ding rang out as a door swung open, a new person stepping out into the street from a small shop with a sign that read "Morrison Bakery", holding the door open just long enough to wave and give a small thanks and goodbye. She shut the door, pulling her arm through a second backpack strap before heading off down the street with a purpose.

She wasn't the most inconspicuous person ever. Straight brilliant rose pink dyed hair tumbled down to just under the chin level, a pair of bangs swept across the side of the forehead. Chestnut brown skin formed a canvas for dozens of little freckles all across her face, the number akin to the amount of stars in the universe. A pretty golden dream yellow sweater with downriver blue sleeves and a milano red collar under a pair of black overalls made up her outfit. A pair of worn down gamboge orange sneakers were laced up at her feet, white soles turned gray from usage.

A large, round pair of golden-framed glasses sat upon her nose, slid down to the tip of it, framing her rebel brown eyes. A pair of small galliano yellow crystal earrings hung from her ears, a small silver planet necklace tucked over the overalls completing the appearance. The backpack slung across both of her shoulders was a massive beast of a bag, made up of pueblo brown canvas material with two straps running down its length, holding it closed. It seemed decidedly full, the weight digging the straps into the girl's shoulders as she walked down the street at a quick pace, only to stop next to a powerline pole.