Glory Be

Chapter Eleven

Sydney stared at himself in the mirror. It was a dim reflection; the sun had barely risen. Although this time, he wasn't up due to his Dad's orders, but because of an unusual insomnia that he had battled the night before. He loved sleeping, this was probably the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

He ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to detangle it. Once it was adequate, he reluctantly put his hair up into a messy half ponytail. Where his long bangs hung out around the edges. Sydney hoped this would undo whatever evil he had provoked onto the world and stole his sleep time. While he didn't believe in karma and all that, he was still willing to try anything after last night.

Once he splashed some water over his face, Sydney adjusted his shirt's sleeves, so they fell past his elbow. A few years ago, he had gotten a large tattoo on his upper arm and had been advised by his Father to keep it on the downlow. Once he finished, Sydney stumbled into the kitchen. He blinked tiredly at the food cabinets and icebox. Nothing looked too good, so he opted for ye ole faithful: Bread and Jelly. Sydney grabbed the bread from its box and the corresponding strawberry jelly from the cabinet. He fumbled through the drawers for a knife and started to make his breakfast.

The sound of a door creaking echoed behind him. He knew without looking it was his father's room. The wood floorboards began to creak, with what sounded like hesitant but heavy steps.

"Sydney?" His Father's ruff morning voice rang out. Sydney didn't turn as he was focused on putting another spread of jelly onto his bread.

"Mhm," He replied tiredly.

"Wow. Up before dawn... Never did I ever think..." His Father grumbled and walked into the bathroom. Sydney sighed and looked out the front window. The streets were coated in a shade of red. Almost sunrise.

Sydney paced around their small living area, taking big bites out of his breakfast. The space mainly only existed to hold more of their book collection. Several bookshelves lined the small room. Each filled to the brim with old journals and stories. Sydney had read them all, but he couldn't help himself but reread the titles. As his gaze reached the end of the shelf, the view from the window came into sight. A two-horse wagon was stopped outside the shop.

Sydney squinted and took the last bite of his breakfast. The wagon was full of boxes, and a man was working on unloading them. Sydney's expression brightened immediately. He turned and left the living room, passing his father who was just now entering the kitchen.

"What's the hurry?" Peter yelled out.

Sydney didn't stop, as he was already heading down the stairs, "New inventory!" He replied, skipping steps on the way down. Firmly his feet planted against the ground floor, and he left for the front room; swinging the door open with excitement, "You're delivering?" Sydney asked.

"Yep," The man said with a yawn, "This is the right place, yeah? Kowal's printshop?"

Sydney nodded, feeling strands of his hair fall out of the elastic, "Yeah, right place."

"Perfect, I'll just get this last box out of the back, and you can sign for 'em." The man hopped back into the wagon. Sydney watched the man anxiously. Repeatedly rubbing his hands together, as he trembled in anticipation. He almost jumped to the help the guy carry the cargo down to make this go faster, but he held still, "Alright, there's the last one," The man sat the box near the others, before grabbing a pen and paper, "Just sign on the bottom."

"Sounds good," Sydney said, signing the paper so quickly that what he wrote could easily be considered more of a scribble than a signature. He pushed the paper back to the man and turned his attention to the cargo, "Thanks for the delivery."