The Creative Process

Chapter Six: No One Expected

    I got up last because Kate and Thomas woke up early for work and I didn't blame them for waking me up out on the couch. Kate woke up herself and Thomas slightly earlier than necessary so that she could make sure she got Thomas the toiletries he needed, and I lent him something to wear. When Kate admitted they had extra time, I insisted on making breakfast.

    "French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon!" I protested Kates refusal, "quick, easy, and can be made in large portions,"

    "Fine!"

    Thomas ate the most, six bacon sticks, four pieces of French toast and a scrambled egg. Kate finished remaining four bacon sticks and had two pieces of French toast. I ate two scrambled eggs and three pieces of French toast. The portions were perfect and Thomas gave me a pat on the back as he left the apartment. I couldn't keep myself from grinning as I gathered my things and made my way down to the creative corner.

    The day passed without complications. My blog told a colorful story of a duel, a duel between two people with supernatural abilities. The entrée had the highest like and response numbers I'd ever seen. The sun shone outside, it was warming up to a perfect 67 degrees, and any other day I would practically skip down the street, but today I couldn't shake the thoughts of the man and the attack. I patrolled the street with a very specific purpose that day.

    I was sitting on a bench playing a game and watching the street when someone stopped directly in front of me. I assumed they were just stopping there to look at something in the shop or to talk to someone, because I'd never been stopped or had anyone stop me for anything in the street before. I sat there and continued playing for a good thirty seconds before I paused and looked up, realizing he had been waiting for my attention the whole time.

    "Mister Wilson?" The man asked,

    "Y-yes, yes that's me."

    "Detective Wright said you'd be somewhere around here and I was told to bring you to the station right away,"

    "What's wrong?"

    "I don't know I am just the messenger," he seemed slightly annoyed at his words, like he wished he knew. I felt his envy bubble around him.

    "Ok,"

    Getting into the front seat of a police car with a complete stranger felt weird, but I dealt with the discomfort for the few minuets of awkward silence that was the ride to the station. I hopped out of the car and the man led me the way to Kate's office, where she sat bent over the computer on her desk, running her fingers harshly through her hair.

    "Arthur," she said, "thanks Evan, I owe you one,"

    "Actually, you owe me like, seven," Evan muttered on his way out the door, only I heard him.

    "Ok here's the deal," Kate stood up and paced back and forth in front of her desk, "We have another attack that witnesses described as he lifted something that shouldn't be able to be lifted by a human, and threw it at them,"

    "Did anyone have a report of what he looked like?" I asked eagerly

    "We caught him,"

    "What??"

    "But," she stopped pacing and looked me dead in the eye, "It's not the same man,"

    "What?" More than one person like me?

    "I took a picture of your drawing on my phone, speaking of which, I need your phone number so I don't have to send an agent to stalk the streets for you when I need a little mind reading,"