Daniel Hawthorne
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- Posted: Tue, 28 Oct 2014 03:21:53 +0000
The people of Durem parted, like a sea gives way to the bow of a boat, as a new face entered the city. Dozens of phrases of “excuse me” and “pardon me” were issued from the newcomer as he squeezed his way through a rather busy part of town, and most of the people blatantly complied without sparing him a second glance. There were some however who cast him with either startled or inquisitive looks, but by the time they would size him up, he would already be filing past another group of pedestrians. It was an ironic thing to be calling him a “new face”, when every facial feature he assumedly possessed had been hidden under a rubbery breathing apparatus. As strange and curious as it was, the man wore a gas mask. It looked somewhat old of make and yet there appeared to be several modifications added on to it, giving it a slightly more modern look.
The strange man clutched a briefcase in his hand as he made it out of the congestion of people and, with a thankful sigh, found his way down a less-crowded street. The briefcase was part of his typical daily attire of a business man. The stranger stood at a normal height, dressed exclusively in a fine coal-black business suit complete with a plain white undershirt and a cherry-red tie. His shoes were polished and shined like onyxagainst the lackluster cobblestone street and the chain of a pocket watch hung from the left pocket of his slacks. A dark bowler hat sat at the top of his head, completing the look of a business man despite the strange apparatus that covered his face.
When the coast was clear and he felt that he wouldn’t be approaching any more clusters of people anytime soon, the gas masked man dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and removed a small piece of paper. He stared at it for a time, or at least he appeared to be staring at it, as any onlookers couldn’t tell where his gaze strayed to. The glass goggles of the mask had been tinted enough so the man could see out, but no one could see in, it was both an advantage and a disadvantage. Appearing satisfied with whatever was written on the small note; the stranger slipped it back into his pocket and continued on his way.
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The strange man clutched a briefcase in his hand as he made it out of the congestion of people and, with a thankful sigh, found his way down a less-crowded street. The briefcase was part of his typical daily attire of a business man. The stranger stood at a normal height, dressed exclusively in a fine coal-black business suit complete with a plain white undershirt and a cherry-red tie. His shoes were polished and shined like onyxagainst the lackluster cobblestone street and the chain of a pocket watch hung from the left pocket of his slacks. A dark bowler hat sat at the top of his head, completing the look of a business man despite the strange apparatus that covered his face.
When the coast was clear and he felt that he wouldn’t be approaching any more clusters of people anytime soon, the gas masked man dug into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and removed a small piece of paper. He stared at it for a time, or at least he appeared to be staring at it, as any onlookers couldn’t tell where his gaze strayed to. The glass goggles of the mask had been tinted enough so the man could see out, but no one could see in, it was both an advantage and a disadvantage. Appearing satisfied with whatever was written on the small note; the stranger slipped it back into his pocket and continued on his way.
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