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Member
Join Date: Jul 2004
Posts: 21
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RainWalker
The year is 2356 A.D. and I, being homeless, pennyless, jobless, and wanted, roam the biggest city on earth. Starport.
I stood mesmerized by the rain falling toward me- each drop gleaming a face, or a car, or a house back at me. Strangers walked around me as though I were a stone embedded in this river that was a street, only occasionally noticing the strange look on my young face. As though their worries were not important- as though I were older than I appeared, though I was not. I had seen many things while suspended- murder, pain, and the little cutting remarks from stranger to stranger. I could not restrain myself any longer, the exileration of it was wonderful, and so many things that were ugly, became beautiful when seen through pure water.
I looked around- waiting for that car, or shadow, or moment when no one is looking at me, that envarioubly comes when you stand long enough in the rain. A van drove swiftly down the street, almost splashing me with mud, but as it's shadow fell on my trench coat, hiding me for a moment from prying eyes, covering my blonde hair, leathers and military boots for that split second of eternity- I walked, leaping quietly into the sheet of mud from the van, and finding my way into the particles of liquid suspending the minerals in air.
It was a tight fit, but I shifted through it, with ease born of practice.
Seen from the inside of a drop of rainwater, anything becomes wonderful, though the darker side is unhid, it becomes unimportant. I shifted through the city, from drop to drop, puddle to puddle- no one would know I was there, unless they noticed the reflection of a phantom. But in a city of millions, even such a antique phantom as myself would deserve little notice.
- - -
I made it to the library- shifting, in an hour. As I walked in, my coat dry, among a crowd of dripping people escaping the front I'd followed in, the libarians looked at me. They never just look at me, the always have to stare. I suppose it's slightly warranted, I come only when transportation makes itself available, which means- rain, and lots of it. I can only shift short distances to another water mass, so rain has to be plentiful for long distance travel. As a result, I only appear with a strong front, and I always stand out- I'm bone dry in my patched fatigues, and the businessmen and students around me are dripping water all over the carpet.
While everyone else was shaking water off their bookbags and suitcases, I walked to the desk. The librarian who had the opposite side of the counter from me was new: she acted like I might be a prospective arsonist- oldtimers just looked hostile.
I studied her for a moment. She wasn't bad looking. Most would consider the glasses a drawback, but I didn't perticularly care. She wasn't that much older than me, probably in the last year of high school.
I guessed it must be sometime in the summer, though I didn't normally keep track of school. "I would like..." I paused for a moment more, to remember my list. "A Roman history mid-year assessment test, a Quantum physics study guide, Nuclear Physics 1.0, Nuclear Physics 1.2, and, um.... Tolkiens Collective works." I paused for breath, and waited as she punched out my order. After a short wait, my books 'thumped' into the bottom of the rack and were passed on to me.
I had read Tolkiens CW several times, it was a thick, black book, with an elvish rune inscribed on the cover. The Roman history, Quantum Physics, NP 1.0 and NP 1.2 were for my own private form of learning: whatever I felt like, whenever I felt like. I took the test for a comparison.
I lifted my stack of books of the table, and turned- looking for a table by a window where I could watch the rain come down. The one in the corner was vacated, and the tabletop was worn by the passing of countless mathematics texts, history books, and treatises. I walked slowly down the isle of tables- passing "respectable" people right and left. They looked away as I passed, but I was acutly aware of my leather, and the jingle of knives, bolts, and and hood ornaments on my belt. The latter were mementos of carjackings- I had given that up months ago, when the "Peace officers" had caused too much trouble, fortunately they thought it was a rash of thieves- no one could steal that many cars at one time on a rainy afternoon.... could they?
I reached the end of the row, and sat down abrubtly, slamming my books on the table- taking amusement from the way everyone jumped. They were obviously not used to someone dressed the way I dressed walking in on their library. I shrugged, let them swallow it- studs and all. I turned to my test, leaving the library in general to either get used to it- or not.
To be continued-
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