The Blue Dog [Jonah]

[Annabelle Coronova]

Ah finally, the weekend. It had come after a long sounding week of boring classes, without a single meeting for art club. What a shame that was, perhaps the instructor was ill or something of the like. Now she was severely lacking on some creative time, and knew that the only way to fit that in was to do some painting or drawing at the Blue Dog, a musky old coffee house in the downtown area, just a short walk from Hammel. She was a regular there, choosing to go to this cafe as opposed to the other ones that most people would choose. And because she came so often, the baristas didn't mind her setting up her art kits every so often and painting whatever came to her mind. Sometimes, she'd even give them what she'd been working on, and they'd hang it somewhere in the cafe. It was a nice symbiotic relationship in that sense.

This evening was a rather cloudy one, from the looks of it through the clear glass window. Rain droplets were forming, plopping on the cement outside of the hole-in-the-wall, soon filling the entire sidewalk with a dewy glaze. The pitter patter of the rain could be heard gently knocking on the glass windows all around the place, on the siding and the door and everything. Well, she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, so what a perfect opportunity to paint something she saw...or on a better note, she reached inside her bag to find her small tin container, her medium sized pad, and a tissue. Placing the tissue down on the table, and juggling the other two, Bells opened up the old, bent tin to reveal her pieces of charcoal. Today would be a drawing day.

She set it all down on the low coffee table that accompanied two plush chairs, positioned right next to the large storefront window, and went to order up some hot, homemade chai latte. Whilst waiting for it to be made, she looked around for other inhabitants. There was another regular, the old man with a trench coat and black hat, sitting in the back, smoking his pipe whilst reading an old newspaper. Anna had a story about him; she imagine he was once a private eye, or an under cover reporter, coming from the outfit, it seemed he never wanted to let those parts of him go. He came here everyday (or did he just never leave?), had the same black coffee, and read the same newspaper. Perhaps always relishing the glory days, not willing to live in reality, which this place often let one's mind wander, escape.

She was served up her chai, said her thank you's, and went to sink down into the thick and comfortable arm chair, taking in a large whiff of her chai, but placing it on the table, it was far too hot to start drinking quite yet. Picking up her pad and a small piece of charcoal, Bells looked around. What could she draw today? Was it in front of her, tactile, or was it something yet seen, and all in her mind? She closed her eyes and stopped thinking, letting her mind come up with something extravagant.

[Jonah King]

If there was one thing Jonah hated, it was shopping. He didn’t go into shops very often, but when he did he felt constantly watched – judged by assistants in clothes shops, and eyed warily by those in other shops who were always on the lookout for a shoplifted. Apparently being over six foot and wearing an old jacket over a hooded top made Jonah look rather suspicious. As a result, Jonah had taken to avoiding the whole shopping experience whenever possible. Anything he needed, he bought online. Anything he didn’t need, he didn’t buy. Money didn’t grow on trees, after all.

Unfortunately, he needed a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird, and he needed to read it by the end of the week. With that kind of time, buying online was not an option. So Jonah had stepped out into a cloudy, windy late afternoon, and gone in search of a bookshop.

Now Jonah was heading back to the school, a plastic bag in his hand containing the novel in question. His pocket vibrated, and he paused while he pulled out his phone: his sister’s number flashed up. Moving in with Rob. Come for dinner soon. Will e-mail details x It was interesting how much more friendly she had become towards Jonah since she had become engaged to a meta – she had never texted him before. Robbie’s theory was that she wanted to get on his good side in case the baby was born deaf, and Jonah did have to wonder if that was as implausible as it first sounded.

A large drop of rain landed on the back of his neck, and Jonah looked up just in time to see the beginning of a downpour. It started gently, but after a few seconds it was becoming heavier and heavier – Jonah shivered as the icy water soaked through his hair, and cast around for somewhere to shelter. If he carried on walking to the school, he would be wet through before he even reached the driveway. The street he was on had three options: antique shop, café, second-hand book store. No competition. Jonah took the last few strides to the café at a jog, and was through the door just as a flash of lightning ignited the sky above him. He must have closed the door too loudly, as a few people lifted their heads from books or mugs to look at him in puzzlement and irritation for a moment. Jonah gave an awkward smile by way of apology.

The man behind the counter gave him a look which said: ‘if you want to stay, you need to pay’, and Jonah resignedly reached into his pocket to sift through some change. He had enough for a cup of something, and reluctantly headed over to the till. A glance at the window confirmed that it was still raining, and showed no signs of easing off. Jonah ordered a regular tea and looked around – it was obviously a busy time for this place. The only empty seat was next to a blonde girl Jonah vaguely recognised. Was she from Hammel? Tea in hand, Jonah approached her. ‘Can I? he asked, gesturing to the seat at her table. Talking to strangers was not his strong suit.

[Annabelle Coronova]

A meek voice from in front of her startled Annabelle a little bit, causing her to make a light dash with her charcoal. Fiddlesticks, she muttered under her breath, and then looked up at the person in her direction, figuring there was no undoing of charcoal, and brushing it or trying to erase it both smeared it and ruined the texture of the paper, in case she wanted to do something on top of the mark. She could always add some detail to that area that wasn't necessarily there before when she was done with the majority of the rest of the picture. She had lots of time to think of something.

Kindly, she smiled up at the person who was in front of her, a recognizable male from Hammel. His two simple words gestured to the chair across from her. As she didn't have any plans of anyone coming to join her for the evening, she nodded, smiling and gesturing to him from her seated and cuddled up position in her own chair. "Mhm, go ahead." With one lasting smile at him, she returned to her work, crumpling up her face at where she left off, and with one more look out the window, she picked up where she had left off, sketching the steep street from her view outside of the window. She had a bit of the perspective going on, marking important points of view and inter-crossings with the lightest of marks and dots. How she would draw the rain, she wasn't quite sure, but for now she could focus on the trees, sidewalk, cars, etc. Her most favorite thing was architecture, everything about it. That and interior design. She could spend hours alone on getting every bit of detail in for the surrounding buildings, and what with an antique shop and a musty old bookstore just adjacent to this ancient coffeehouse, she had plenty of opportunities to let her creativity off the hook. A warm hub with people all around her, warm chai, and rainy days made for the most perfect evening.