The Man with the Gloves

I walk quickly down the street with my messenger bag strung over my shoulder. My red hair is tied into a braid that rests over my shoulder. It is a cloudy, and rainy day as it usually is in my small town, but that does not stop me from walking to the bookstore on my day off. My black sweatshirt hugs me tight, providing warmth to my torso and arms. My leggings hug my small legs as I walk through the cold, hugging a book to my chest. As I walk, I see all of the people who usually walk around on stormy days. The workaholics, and the people who live on these streets, along with the kids who are too young to go to high school yet. You see, in my town, kids do not begin to go to school until they are fourteen. This enables them to find more of who they are before they have to be in the same place every day, all day until they are 20. I love that about my town because I read books constantly and made up my own characters and spent all of my time with my family and then when I turned twenty one, I moved out. But I did not want to leave my small town, it has been my home forever. I know all of the people who live here, and I always have, especially when the population is under 500. My dream was always that I wanted to become an author, so now that I am, at the age of twenty five I may add, I make it my mission to read books just as much as I write them. I look up, squinting my eyes to prevent the rain from dropping into them, I am met with my favourite little bookstore. My hand reaches towards the golden handle attached to the dark wooden door, and my navy blue nails contrast quite well against the shiny colour. When I open the door I feel a gust of warm air, and I grin, moving my legs faster towards the warmth of the book store. As I look around, I notice that it looks different. There is a Christmas tree right smack dab in the middle and fake snow along with beautiful lights lay upon all of the shelves. A smile breaks onto my face when I see the fireplace in the corner. I plan to sit there to read when I find my new book. I stuff the one that I am holding into my bag, and walk through a few aisles before I glance up to see a man standing over one of the tables with a book in his gloved hand. My curiosity strikes as it is warm in here, even my hands which are usually exceptionally cold, have warmed by now. The man is deep enough into the store for him to have arrived before I did. I glance down towards the bright blue lace up boots on my feet, and when I look back up towards him, golden eyes meet my gaze. A small, almost inaudible gasp escapes me when his stare turns stoic, and cold, eyes changing to an icy blue. He is like a book character! Inner me squeals. I am frozen on the spot, excited but terrified. His feet angle themselves towards me and he takes steps longer than what mine would be. He is right in front of me within seconds.

"Are you Blair Silber?", his eyes are gold again when I look up at him. His voice is deep, and he has a sharp jaw, and beautiful features. Suddenly, I realize that he is waiting for my response.

"Yes, that is me!" I exclaim happily. His gloved hands shift nervously, holding my latest novel in his hands. A smile spreads to both of our mouths and he lets out a gasp sound.

"How dare you!" He pronounces loudly. I take a step back, knowing what he is about to say. "You killed my favourite character! The only one who I know if I met in person, would not care about my differences from you human-" His gloved hand slaps over his mouth, and I can see a spot of skin between his jacket sleeve, and the glove. His skin is charred. Charred from fire. My eyes widen in shock and he steps back. "Okay, I guess I messed that up. You promise you will not tell anyone about what I am about to tell you?" Without missing a beat, I nod my head slowly, a little bit afraid.

"I am not human. Well, I am, but I am not normal." He pauses and leans down to my ear. "I can start fire with my hands." He leans back to look down at my reaction.

"Uh, so can I? Everyone can." I deadpan back to him. His eyes widen in shock, and at my not understanding.

"No, I could torch this book in my hand right now without using a lighter or matches. All I have to do is take my glove off." I nod, deep in thought about the book character he is creating in my mind.

"Prove it." I dare, and a grin spreads across his mouth.

"Blair Silber, you are my favourite author. Please forgive what I am about to do." I glance around to see that everyone who was standing in the book store is now gone, and the rain is pouring down outside even worse than before. I hear a glove drop to the floor and I look back to the man in front of me. His bare hand reaches for the book in his other hand, and it makes a little explosion. I duck my head under my arms, and when the smoke smell enters my nose, I look up amazed at the black, torched book in his charred hand.

"Well that's it, I am writing another book right now." He looks ecstatic when I grab his wrist and turn on my heels to walk out the door with him trailing behind me.