Aristotle

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

:I’m a little weird, and you’re a little weird but let’s be frank; who isn’t weird in this strange and unusual world?:

I am seated at the kitchen table, pushing soggy cornflakes around my bowl while reading a quote book. Every once in a while I jot one down in my little red notebook. I call it Jenny- the notebook I mean- and if she were human she would be as old and wrinkly as a ninety year old woman.

I pick up my phone as I shovel in a last spoonful of soggy mush and as I rinse my bowl in the sink, I check the time.

The clock reads eight thirty-seven and I find myself rushing to find a  pair of socks – I end up with one rainbow striped sock and one grey one, because of the  fact that all of my socks refuse to stay in a pair- and trying to desperately drag a brush through my hair, before running out the door and down the steps of my house. I manage to be out of the door at precisely eight forty, which gives me a mere twenty minutes to get to the campus of my University and find my first lecture room.

Now, You may think that at twenty-seven years of age, Judith should have had ample time to have put herself through university or find some sort of line of work that she is thoroughly interested in, but no.

Here she is, in April 2008, in her late twenties, working in a coffee shop and in her first year of Uni. And although it may be a bit disappointing to her parents that she has yet to produce any offspring or find a life-long, she is happy. At least, she thinks she is

Although I live just a five-minute’s drive away from campus, I always find myself walking; whether it is because petrol costs too much, or because of the fact that the air actually smells clean and fresh when I walk, I will never be sure. But I do it every day and I like it. It’s just a royal pain when I end up running late. As I am walking along (in front of the Child’s home now- which means I’m just two blocks away!) I pull my backpack round in front of me, trying to check that I didn’t leave any of my binders at home, when I feel myself colliding with a small person, and I see the red notebook flying out of the pocket of my bag and onto the slightly damp tarmac.

I groan out loud, before looking down and seeing a small child. It’s a boy, with olive skin and dark brown eyes, and all of a sudden I feel my heart ache, just a tiny bit.

I’m unsure why (could I possibly have a heart problem? Note to self: actually go to the doctor’s for a check-up, instead of avoiding all of their calls) but I hold out my hand and help him up, trying my best to smile at him friendlily.

“Sorry little man. My bad. You alright?”

He stares at me, as if he is trying to figure out what I had said, to understand. . .

But then again, maybe he’s just trying to figure out what to say.

When he finally opens his mouth, the words that come out surprise me.

“Do you like Aristotle?”

I look at him in surprise, before answering with a yes.

“Why?”

“Well, I saw in your bag, and you have, like, a million Aristotle books in there and that made me think you like him. So why do you like him?”

He stared at me quite solemnly (weren’t children supposed to smile lots?), waiting for my answer.

“Well, he’s very fascinating. And very, very wise.”

“Why do you find a dead guy fascinating? Why not find the squirrels in the park fascinating, or the fact that people can survive bones being cut off fascinating? That sounds like it’d be more interesting.”

I stare at him, before finally saying “You just don’t get it. You’re too young.”

He pulls himself up a bit taller, before proudly saying “I’m not little, I’m nine!”

I grin at that.

“Haha of course. My apologies. But I really had better be off now. Bye.”     

“Bye.”

And then I rushed off to class.

And thus, Judith and Sebastian met. And here began their greatest adventure yet.