Asailah

Chapter 2

Asa waddled through the crowded streets of where he now lived, a place he almost hated calling home. A putrid stench filled the streets from the bags of trash lining up every building with a human in residence as the sunlight shone itself onto the drab and depressing colors of the buildings, paint scraped off the large walls painted with amateurish graffiti. The place screamed imperfection, which greatly bothered the little perfectionist in Asa. But, with how his life had gone in recent times, the same perfectionist in him had learned that the idea of most things having the potential to be perfect is merely high fantasy. Still, to him, everything had a limit of being imperfect, and everything about the town had far surpassed that limit. He was someone who always tried to find the good even in a general state of negativity, that if something isn't perfect, it should at least have traces of perfection. None of that existed here, and it did greatly depress young Asa. Especially considering the thought of his younger brother Brennan, who lived a comfortable life enriched by the full support of his parents in every decision he took, something Asa didn't always have. He didn't hate Brennan, though. Despite what in his mind was a great injustice in the way they were both raised, he still shared fond memories with him. If only Brennan would help him out at a time like this, but Asa didn't believe that he had it in him to do so.

After a while of barely being able to continue walking through the streets he loathed so much, he finally arrived at his destination. A place he considered the heart of the town, the only place he considered a positive, and the only place he didn't actively loathe visiting. A little inn named after its owner, Randy. Randy and his wife ran the place full-time, and Asa considered them the diamonds in the dirt of the town, the only really exceptional people he'd known in that place, as everyone else seemed to have been caught in their own worlds and never cared for anything or anyone else. Asa was unbeknownst to his own hypocrisy, but nonetheless, that was the kind of people Randy and his wife were. They were very hardworking and humble people, looking to make just enough to move to their own house, away from the depressing hole that was the town. Randy would often enthusiastically tell Asa of their progress towards their "dream", and whilst Asa initially scoffed at the idea of a dream being something as simple as a house, he had slowly climbed out of his little hole of blind negativity, and grown to appreciate what certain things meant to people. He would often go in, just to get a beer and chat with old Randy. And now with more than enough money in his pocket, he could give another few dollars to Randy's eventual house, and enjoy a nice, albeit excessively greasy burger in return. As Asa walked into the inn, he was greeted by the man behind the counter. The place sort of smelt of wet wood, and whilst Asa wasn't exactly a fan of the odor, he far preferred it to the putrid odor that had the entire town within its grasp. The walls were made of bricks, and dim yellow lights only partially illuminated the place.

"It's ol' Mister Ames! How you been, son?"

Asa felt a slight tinge of happiness after hearing his hearty welcome message. He hadn't visited the place in a while and figured Randy had missed his absence.

"Mister Randy!..."

Asa virtually cheered back at Randy, whilst cracking a small laugh.

"...Don't call me old, you've got me feeling like a dad of three!"

Randy cracked a hearty laugh upon hearing his response. Randy often had a scruffy beard and wore a small beret on his head of white hair. Asa was never sure of why exactly he had that beret, neither was he sure of why he wore it virtually every single day. Assuming he just loved that specific hat. In this lack of context, in Asa's mind, the beret was now synonymous with Randy, and seeing any beret in public had reminded him of Randy. Asa never knew why that was so, so he assumed good people just leave their marks on you in different ways.