Post by Kia Bailey on Apr 21, 2013 21:16:24 GMT -5
Kia smiled and waved to the bus driver as she passed him on her way off the large rectangular hunk of metal. "Thank you. Have a nice day!" she told him and then hopped off the last step to land on the slightly cracked sidewalk. The bus's double doors folded shut behind her and rumbled on its way. Shoving gloved hands in the pockets of her lightweight jacket, the cheery blonde started down the opposite street and walked about a block before she finally reached the bulk of her destination.
It was an older area of town that boasted a few little strip malls mainly consisting of odds-and-ends stores and the some specialty stores. For instance, there was an old antique shop, a used book store, a tanning and beauty salon, a Video Jalisco, a place that sold all sorts of beads and other materials to make your own jewelry, a tailor who happened to be an older lady allergic to wool, a scrapbooking shop, a home medicine store full of all kinds of herbs and poultices, and quite a few more.
She'd come here today for one purpose... okay, scratch that. She had come here today for one primary purpose and then a few secondary ones. Antique stores were one of the most perfect places for her to use her gift. Well, to practice with it anyway. For one, they weren't typically populated by lots of people. Shopping for antiques was a dying art. For another, so much of the merchandise had such extensive history that it was good practice for her in learning how to pick and choose and maybe even direct her visions to a specific time or event in the item's history. After she did some of that, she wanted to check out the used book store and then that bead place. Making earrings had become a kind of hobby for her since there wasn't much opportunity for her to go swimming, let alone surfing like she used to back home.
The door to the neatly organized antique shop gave a gentle ding as she opened it and stepped past the threshold. It smelled old inside. Not old as in like the weird smell old people got or old as in like decay caused by age or anything, but the kind of old that made you think about lots and lots of history. Kia enjoyed learning about history, but it wasn't exactly a natural interest. At least it hadn't been at first. At first it had been because the more she knew about history in general, the easier it was for her to place certain events that she tended to see in flashes when she touched older items... or even people. It did help with the disorientation and sense of vertigo that liked to wash over her during an 'episode' as she had taken to calling them.
A man in his early fifties popped his head from around a bookshelf. He had salt and pepper hair with a pair of old time spectacles riding low on his nose. The perfect stereotypical rendition of what everyone pictured when they thought of an owner of an antique shop. He pushed the spectacles up his nose and gave her a welcoming smile. "Kia Bailey! Good afternoon and welcome. How good it is to see you again. It's been quite some time since you came to visit? Is there anything I can help you locate? Or just browsing this time?"
Kia matched him smile for smile and closed the distance between them slowly as her eyes glanced around for what seemed like the hundredth time. After all, this wasn't her first visit to this particular shop. "I think I'm just browsing this time, Mr. Jackson. But I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled for anything that jumps out at me. My mom's got a thing for this kind of stuff, after all."
He chuckled and rubbed his hands together getting some of the dust off them that they'd with which they'd been layered due to the accumulated dust on some of the antiques. "I feel like your mother is my best customer and she lives on the other side of the country." His chuckle quickly turned into a shallow cough. "Excuse me. All the dust in the air is aggravating my lungs. I was just in the process of doing a little organizing and trying to fight back all these infernal dust bunnies that insist on invading my store." Kia laughed brightly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come and help me out around here? I could use an extra pair of hands around here," Mr. Jackson stated.
Kia almost said yes. She liked Mr. Jackson and she liked the atmosphere of the antique shop, but she had to turn him down. It wasn't even that the kind of work involved wasn't exactly her thing. It had a lot more to do with her discomfort at being around so many different objects with such rich and extensive history. She had her gloves, but maybe she was being a little selfish because she really didn't want to have to wear them all day long to protect her from episode after episode. No, it was just better to come and visit to practice than to be risking it all day.
"Sorry, Mr. Jackson. I'd love to but school's really demanding. You know how it can be, right?"
"I'm not that old that I can't remember what school is like." He patted her on the shoulder, and Kia had to fight the instinctual urge to flinch away. He hadn't been going to touch any of her bare skin, so she'd managed to stay still and act natural. "I'll let you get to it then, my dear. Holler if you need anything."
"I will, Mr. Jackson. Thanks," she assured him, and he was moving off to do something else. Kia watched him disappear around another tall bookshelf that contained all sorts of other things and not a single book. She went the other direction toward the farther corner of the store where she might possible claim some privacy in which to practice. The last thing she needed was for someone to catch her while she was having an episode because when she was seeing the history of something or someone, her connection with the present was a little rocky and it was best for all involved if she not be interrupted.
Now occupying the little shops back corner, she slipped off her right glove one finger at a time as she perused the items on the table back there. A small delicate and ornate porcelain jewelry box caught her eye and she was just reaching out to touch it when her hand paused midair at the sound of the dinging of the door. Guess she wasn't all alone in the shop anymore and she had to decide whether she should continue with her plans or try in a little bit. Maybe whoever it was wouldn't stay for long. Sighing with slight frustration, Kia began sliding her glove back on.
It was an older area of town that boasted a few little strip malls mainly consisting of odds-and-ends stores and the some specialty stores. For instance, there was an old antique shop, a used book store, a tanning and beauty salon, a Video Jalisco, a place that sold all sorts of beads and other materials to make your own jewelry, a tailor who happened to be an older lady allergic to wool, a scrapbooking shop, a home medicine store full of all kinds of herbs and poultices, and quite a few more.
She'd come here today for one purpose... okay, scratch that. She had come here today for one primary purpose and then a few secondary ones. Antique stores were one of the most perfect places for her to use her gift. Well, to practice with it anyway. For one, they weren't typically populated by lots of people. Shopping for antiques was a dying art. For another, so much of the merchandise had such extensive history that it was good practice for her in learning how to pick and choose and maybe even direct her visions to a specific time or event in the item's history. After she did some of that, she wanted to check out the used book store and then that bead place. Making earrings had become a kind of hobby for her since there wasn't much opportunity for her to go swimming, let alone surfing like she used to back home.
The door to the neatly organized antique shop gave a gentle ding as she opened it and stepped past the threshold. It smelled old inside. Not old as in like the weird smell old people got or old as in like decay caused by age or anything, but the kind of old that made you think about lots and lots of history. Kia enjoyed learning about history, but it wasn't exactly a natural interest. At least it hadn't been at first. At first it had been because the more she knew about history in general, the easier it was for her to place certain events that she tended to see in flashes when she touched older items... or even people. It did help with the disorientation and sense of vertigo that liked to wash over her during an 'episode' as she had taken to calling them.
A man in his early fifties popped his head from around a bookshelf. He had salt and pepper hair with a pair of old time spectacles riding low on his nose. The perfect stereotypical rendition of what everyone pictured when they thought of an owner of an antique shop. He pushed the spectacles up his nose and gave her a welcoming smile. "Kia Bailey! Good afternoon and welcome. How good it is to see you again. It's been quite some time since you came to visit? Is there anything I can help you locate? Or just browsing this time?"
Kia matched him smile for smile and closed the distance between them slowly as her eyes glanced around for what seemed like the hundredth time. After all, this wasn't her first visit to this particular shop. "I think I'm just browsing this time, Mr. Jackson. But I'll definitely keep my eyes peeled for anything that jumps out at me. My mom's got a thing for this kind of stuff, after all."
He chuckled and rubbed his hands together getting some of the dust off them that they'd with which they'd been layered due to the accumulated dust on some of the antiques. "I feel like your mother is my best customer and she lives on the other side of the country." His chuckle quickly turned into a shallow cough. "Excuse me. All the dust in the air is aggravating my lungs. I was just in the process of doing a little organizing and trying to fight back all these infernal dust bunnies that insist on invading my store." Kia laughed brightly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come and help me out around here? I could use an extra pair of hands around here," Mr. Jackson stated.
Kia almost said yes. She liked Mr. Jackson and she liked the atmosphere of the antique shop, but she had to turn him down. It wasn't even that the kind of work involved wasn't exactly her thing. It had a lot more to do with her discomfort at being around so many different objects with such rich and extensive history. She had her gloves, but maybe she was being a little selfish because she really didn't want to have to wear them all day long to protect her from episode after episode. No, it was just better to come and visit to practice than to be risking it all day.
"Sorry, Mr. Jackson. I'd love to but school's really demanding. You know how it can be, right?"
"I'm not that old that I can't remember what school is like." He patted her on the shoulder, and Kia had to fight the instinctual urge to flinch away. He hadn't been going to touch any of her bare skin, so she'd managed to stay still and act natural. "I'll let you get to it then, my dear. Holler if you need anything."
"I will, Mr. Jackson. Thanks," she assured him, and he was moving off to do something else. Kia watched him disappear around another tall bookshelf that contained all sorts of other things and not a single book. She went the other direction toward the farther corner of the store where she might possible claim some privacy in which to practice. The last thing she needed was for someone to catch her while she was having an episode because when she was seeing the history of something or someone, her connection with the present was a little rocky and it was best for all involved if she not be interrupted.
Now occupying the little shops back corner, she slipped off her right glove one finger at a time as she perused the items on the table back there. A small delicate and ornate porcelain jewelry box caught her eye and she was just reaching out to touch it when her hand paused midair at the sound of the dinging of the door. Guess she wasn't all alone in the shop anymore and she had to decide whether she should continue with her plans or try in a little bit. Maybe whoever it was wouldn't stay for long. Sighing with slight frustration, Kia began sliding her glove back on.