In the early 2000s, a time of technological boom and innovation, a mysterious new game emerges, promising money. Navigating a world where love is as sweet as it is violent.
Spirit of the end unravels the intricate tapestry of human connection in an...
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::Watching the man who promised to help her see those images once more:: : :
Some people wore shoes to impress their peers. They wore them to impress strangers, to give an image of themselves. Most people wore them for comfort. He wore them for their stories.
The man visited many different countries. Making friends in each of them, he often received gifts from those peers soon after his return to his homeland.
His room, at first view, seemed like a church basement.
Church basements, the ones that opened for a few hours a day every other day. Ran by a few older ladies who volunteered gleamingly. Enjoying the casual conversation and the smile of children and challenged individuals when they tasted a new variety of 25-cent candy. No matter the time you came in, that little jar of candy was never empty. And so, they'd go about their day, selling used treasures, jeans, paintings, toys, VHS tapes.
Sometimes for a couple of dollars, depending on what you had in your wallet, often free of charge. It was cozy, safe, and interesting. Brimming with diverse items, there were some of brands you were aware of, but many times the merchandise looked and felt like they were from very far away.
That was his room.
He had a collection of squared pottery from Baghdad, ceramic detailed with elements of floral-like illustrations. These were perfect to hold his 30 by 28 centimetres pictures in plastic film. It was a clever slit on the top part of the hand made photo holder that secured the images.
There were made custom for him in one of his acquaintances workshop. They used traditional techniques to build modern utilities.
In his main room, 3 wooden carved Igbo Nigerian mask painted with black and shades of yellow and red ornated the front halls. The upper section of the mask were particularly intricate, with series of triangular shapes reminiscent of mountain peaks and the circular detail in them depicting an avalanche.
He had those ornaments in his room and many more.
The collection he would never replace and that he was the most attached to were the shoes. He owned a pear of Babouche known as 'Babush' or 'Baboush'. His were from cow leather, they weren't as ornate as most. He wore the flat sole shoes at times during his candle cleaning session. The gōngfūxié, were used only for yoga purposes. He did so in a ritualistic manner every Monday.
Even though he appreciated the authenticity and culturally rich pieces, he held adoration for the Western front streetwear. He had Vans Old School and Puma Suede in multiple colours and shape deviations. Although he stuck with brown Steve Maddens for work.
He wasn't the type to define a person by their shoes, but hoped it spoke to their preference in other subjects. This only if he knew the pair was abnormally clean and of impressive pricing.
::
Fitted and set for his routine evening jog, he planned on taking route 3 with a passage into the main park (one of his favorite spots) farther from the city, where the sounds of public transport barely reached. (Because all of his focus was outward, he was aware of many more sounds than most.
He could do without the pneumatic whoosh of the bus doors as they opened and closed. Other specific sounds related to public transport didn't please him. He did not detest those sounds, rather he loved the sound of the park). He made his first stop by the shop since he knew Ben Bennani was on the clock the entire day.
"Hey Bennie," he said with a smile, a real open mouth one that pleases the brain.
His coworker waved, excited at first but quickly seemed uncomfortable.
"I was wondering if everything was okay with you. After your shift, the store was clean as always, but many things were out of place. The cash register wasn't balanced either and it seemed the SD card I made a note for is gone."
The man said out of true concern. He just hoped to understand his friend's trouble, he also wished to be the one who explained the situation to the girl in pink.
"Ahh...yeah about that, I had some misfortunes lately, I had to leave in a hurry and the situation did not settle down until long after. I'm really sorry about their SD card, I haven't even noticed it was gone until you told me right now. I'm really embarrassed." His face twisted as he said those words. The unease was saddening, it looked like he was about to cry of embarrassment, he would. That was how Ben was.
"Well, it's okay, we'll figure something out. In the future, contact me. I'll be on your side." These words seemed to slow the culmination of emotion but it was already too far gone. To ease the tension he also closed the door and unlit the 'Open' sign. He took a chair and sat next to Ben for some time. Eventually, the atmosphere loosened.
::
They were now at the park, it seemed fitting given the situation, plus the owner greenlit the request almost immediately. "It feels nice..." The man said.
"It really does," Bennie smiled now.
Next to the park, a small sweet shop called Wells sold cold pudding. They were actually Chinese soft tofu with sweet flavoring. The business seemed to do pretty well as whenever he went there, there were always groups of people sitting on the building's porch on their many patio chairs.
He had many more questions about the event than he let on. He knew you weren't supposed to talk about the game, but it seemed a very plausible reason as to why the SD was gone. It was obviously targeted, the person had a clear motive.
Parts of him wished he'd fixed it right away. Nothing of the sort would happen in any case, he knew he was too curious about those pictures. Not often feeling this emotion, he caught himself disturbed by the fact he wanted to look at the pictures of her.
All of them.
He rubbed his chest, no amount of overthinking would lead him to a clear answer.
"You know, I haven't been to the park in forever," Ben said.
"Is that so? I come here often, we could walk here on Sundays instead of going to the arcade every other week."
"It's worth it on sunny days for the tofu dessert." Ben admitted.
"The strawberry one." The man replied. He looked away at the scenery lost in his thoughts.
"Is that your favorite one?"
"There's someone that feels like that."
"Frosted strawberries? Another one of your odd lines. I mean... they're odd but poetic."
"I surrender to splendor."
"Okay, Shakespeare," he looked straight into the man's eyes, grinning.
"You have to say something?" The man looked down on Ben with a slight smile. (Ben was on the shorter side, he often wore oversized shirts which worsened his case.) The man thought Bennie was cute like a mouse he'd want to adopt.
