literature

October Brooklyn Pt1

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October 2000, Brooklyn / PART 1

Sable pulled a book from the shelf and thumbed through it absent-mindedly. Occasionally he would look up from the pages and glance down the isle. A few people could be seen beyond, quietly thumbing through their own books while relaxing in soft chairs. They seemed very interested in whatever reading material was before them. They didn't seem very interesting themselves, though... except one.

A young woman, of mixed ethnicity, sat at the far end of the room underneath a tall window. A New York Yankees ball cap hid most of her short black hair, as well as a portion of her profile. It was of little matter to him, though. He knew the color of her eyes well enough.

"Hazel," he said quietly, in response to his thoughts.

She sat in her chair with her legs pulled up in a cross-legged fashion. It was a reflection of her youthful personality. A personality that he had always, secretly, admired. Though for the past couple of years she had been suppressing it. The library seemed to be the only place he saw it come out anymore. Believing she was alone, it was easier for her to relax here, and lose herself in books.

In High School he never would have suspected her to be a bookworm. Not that he ever got a chance to really get to know her, though. He hadn't been the most popular white boy in school.

An older man came into view, and turned into the isle that Sable occupied. He stopped a few steps from the young man and began running a finger along the backs of several books, obviously searching for one in particular.

Sable impatiently shut the book and placed it back on the shelf. He pulled his hood further down over his face and headed for the exit of the isle. It was about time he get going anyway.

The older man stepped closer to the row of bookshelves to allow Sable to pass.
He left the room without looking back and made his way to the escalator that would take him down to the main floor. Tucking his hands into the front pocket of his oversized, black hoody he made his way through a small crowd, and then exited the Brooklyn Public Library.

Sable barely noticed the noise and chaos of traffic that flowed around the Grand Army Plaza outside; he had been through here a hundred times. He just walked directly to the bus stop, purposely avoiding eye-contact with everyone he passed.
It was getting dark when he slumped down onto the bench to wait for the bus. The evenings were getting colder lately, so Sable shifted underneath his hoody in order to find the warmest position.

Having nothing better to do, he then scanned his surroundings. Little was of any interest to him, until he noticed a lone figure standing in the shadows underneath the Arch of the Soldiers' and Sailors' Memorial.

He could not see features clearly, but it was obvious that the figure was returning his stare.

The bus arrived and the view was interupted. Sable rose to his feet and got on the bus. He sat down in a seat that faced the Arch in order to look again at the shadowed individual... But no one was there.

He shrugged it off, and then slouched down into his seat.


---

The ride wasn't long. Just a short distance down Flatbush Avenue, and then down the remaining length of Prospect Park. He got off at Parkside Avenue, a corner that had always been fascinating to him. The contrast between Park and City was definite here at night. Behind lay an entrance to Prospect Park; dark and quiet. Intimidating to outsiders. Ahead was Ocean Avenue; busy and crowed. This part of the street never seemed to sleep.

He folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to hold in some warmth, and then approached the intersection to wait for a chance to cross.

A reflection in a window across the street caught his attention.

The lone figure seemed to materialize out of the darkness of the park as he slowly walked toward where Sable stood. Looking through a reflection still left details vague, but Sable could easily tell that the individual was male by his build, sharp-looking suit, and dark overcoat.

The walk-light came on and Sable immediately crossed the street. He figured he could lose this guy once he reached the mass of people about a half block down.
He hunched down as he shouldered his way through the crowds. He tried his best to set a relatively fast pace that wouldn't bring a lot of attention to himself.


TO BE CONTINUED...
This excerpt is from another literary project of mine. Setting spans Late '90s thru current and involves an ongoing war, in the shadows of our lives, between Heaven and Hell. I call it "The Unseen War".

My project is titled "The Sable Hours", and is intended on being a series.

I'm crossing my fingers and hoping for the best.
© 2011 - 2024 crorke
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