The Evening Street : RADIODUST

1 : Shallow Creeks - Frogs

Monday June 2011

The train bustled with life. There were gentlemen talking to each other upfront, sitting in their chairs of leather. Ladies took a sips of their coffee, savoring the bitter taste. The modern-day speakers hummed melodies of pleasant jazz.

Alastor stared through the window to the big wild world of New York. Giant towers of concrete with dazzling neon lights and dark windows reached and scarred the skies. Faces blurred past. Stoplights and stories were nothing but a short term thought in the mess of the bustling city.

Alastor had visited multiple places before, Minnesota, Arkansas, Nevada, but New York was different. He had never delved in the concrete jungle like this one. Alastor was a small town boy' going into the big city for new opportunities.

Alastor shuffled the few papers on his lap. Delicately, Alastor took out his battered pen from his breast pocket, and twirled the antique. It was time to write. He must not wait a second more.

WRITING : W.I.P Episode 82 - Rue Dans la Nuit [PODCAST]

Int. DAY. TRAIN TO NEWYORK

Le Monsieur

New York, what a wonderful city. The big apple, Broadway, museums, it's all here in New York! Observing through la fenetre(1) during my trip was magnificent, I could not help but stare at the traffic. It is a monster to see.

SFX2 : Cars Honking

MAN in the distance

I'm Walking here!

Le Monsieur chuckles.

Le Monsieur

Listeners, this is my first time in such a place. We may have discovered and prodded through the narrow dangerous dens of maggots and spiders, but here in the big city, we may be walking through the metaphorical swamps of the Mississippi. Creatures of all kinds live here, leaches, maggots, crocodiles and maybe we might even encounter a wendingo! Of course, fret not we will prevail.

Le Monsieur intro begins to play; a Let's Misbehave eerie electro swing rendition.

Le Monsieur

Tonight in this episode, let's stray from the well-trodden path. Tighten your seatbelts listeners, we are running all the red lights of New York

PAUSE

The knob of the door turned. A ray of light seeped into the darkness of Alastor's newly rented apartment. Alastor's nose scrunched up. The stale smell of paint and plastic leather was vexing. He missed home already. The plain walls were depressing compared to Alastor's home with its dark-oak walls covered in deer taxidermy. Here, the rooms smelled of cheap plastic and back home with maman, it smelled like earth.

Alastor's gloved hands flipped the light switch. A couch was tight against the wall that opened to the small kitchen. On the other side of the main room was the door to the restroom and the bedroom. The window was a small little thing, covered up by broken blinds.

"I'll have to fix that," Alastor murmured. He closed the door behind him. Alastor opened the suitcase in the middle of the room. He unzipped the suitcase. Alastor' sunk his hand past his clothing and latched onto the familiar shape.

Alastor took out the carving knife from its sheath. The knife was a pure silver glory, sharp and deadly. Alastor smiled, his reflection so clear on the silver.