A Shierbet von Lichtenstein Adventure

Chapter 1

"Not a wit, we defy augury. There is special providence in

the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to

come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come—the

readiness is all. Since no man, of aught he leaves, knows what is't

to leave betimes, let be."

Hamlet, Act 5, Scene 2

The sunlight shone in through the blinds, casting alternating ribbons of shadow and light across the floor and stepping their way up and over my desk. The effect was a bit dizzying really, not at all the intended outcome. The intention being, of course, to block said light from penetrating.

"Every day." I sighed aloud to myself, squinting through the glare of a perfectly placed light-ribbon.

Well, the light, I would imagine, thought the placement was perfect. Just in the sweet spot of my ancient computer monitor so it washed out the images.

"This is useless." I said, standing up and running my right hand up the back of my neck and through my hair, causing my normally neat and tidy style to go askew.

My office was really the attic of an old house, which had been converted to a laundromat. It is small, has no front entrance for me to receive clients through, and smells of musty mothballs (I know, I didn't know moth balls could go bad either, and yet this place had found some).

About the only thing the place has going for it is the large picture window on the east end that overlooked a rolling mountain range. The view is breathtaking. It truly is, absolutely stunning. Right up until 9:15 when the sun breaks free of it struggle with the mountains and started messing with me.

"Why don't you buy a curtain?" you may ask. Well, truth be told, pretty much everyone I have ever complained about this phenomenon to has asked.

I choose not to answer your ridiculous question.

The office is mine. It was not given to me by my parent's foundation, nor leased by one of their many businesses.

I was on my own, I had been for ten years, since I graduated high school and elected to "take a year off from school and figure out what I want to do with my life before wasting my time at college."

My parents, of course, had enlightened me to the fact that they had just finished paying for "the best school in the pacific northwest" and that I "had better go to college if I expected them to keep paying for my upkeep".

To their surprise, well, and mine really, I had declined their counter offer in our little negotiation and struck out on my own.

And here I was. Not a penny taken from them in the year since.

I surveyed my office again, pausing to sneer at the insult which was the sunlight, taking stock of my third-hand desk and the rotary style phone which sat atop it. My eyes fell upon the three shelf bookcase I had picked up at the dump, which was packed with a secondhand collection of Sir. Arthur Conan Doyle's finest works. The book bindings had long since reduced to thread as the cardboard had been broken and fallen away from overuse.

I... win?

The phone rang breaking me out of my reverie.

"Good afternoon." I said by way of greeting. Long ago I had tried to rid myself of the prim and proper, rather pompous accent that years of private school and European travel had bestowed upon me. Tried and failed, so now I just went with it, it fit the part.