Running Through Evenings, Chasing Down Days

The Food Rally 

 Good news - her first Jo-signed Chupacabras check had cleared and she was free to live in her modest sized apartment for another month. Not as good news - she was too lazy to really cook and there was only so many ready meals and packets of ramen you could prepare before going through the motions was maddening.

 Willpower weak, she indulged in her fourth dinner out for the week - a plastic container filled to the brim with some tradition Creole variation on gumbo. It was warm, and that was nice enough on a night that was quickly phasing out of chilly and entering the territory of outright cold. Fifteen minutes past eight in the evening and most of the trucks had closed up or were in the process of closing up for the night. It felt weird to sit on the benches just in front, to plop herself in earshot and listen to small business owners and partners gripe about customers and their financial haul for the day.

 It still got dark early enough that most made the choice to take their kids home by six-thirty or so, enough buffer where time was concerned that she had no trouble finding a swing to sit on. She dug the toes of her shoes into the still damn spot of dirt where countless pairs of feet had killed the grass; There she unpacked her brown paper bag of food, shoveled rice and broth into her mouth and watched as the steam rose from the bowl.

 Admittedly, for someone fresh to an area known for it's supernatural population, perhaps a nighttime picnic for one wasn't the best idea ever. But her apartment was small and her body restless, too proud at the optimistic streak of enthusiasm birthed from the upward trend that was her life as of late. And besides, there was something to be said for confidence, for going boldly and living your life, So she enjoyed the occasional squeak of the ever so slightly rusted chains of the swing, sipped at disposable spoonful after spoonful of stock and looked over her shoulder cautiously from time to time.

Her new routine was tiring. Perhaps it was the constant “I still don’t know where the heck I am” wrong turns she kept taking in her new commute, or just the new faces but she was something exhausted. Optimist or not, you couldn’t argue with a physical exhaustion. This evening she was coming from back to back classes at the gym, and her stomach rioted against her the entire drive home. Hadn’t she seen food trucks somewhere on one of her morning trips? A quick search on her maps app showed her exactly what she was looking for. Hallelujah.

It didn’t take her long to find the trucks, though most of them had started to pack up. She pulled the collar of her fleece jacket closer around her neck as she kept walking, her workout pants doing nothing to keep her legs warm. Finally, she found one that was still in the early stages of packing up and was able to get herself a grilled cheese and tomato soup from the woman. She flashed a smile of thanks, trying not to drool as the scent of the cheese met her nose. She had to start bringing food to work, or she’d turn into a hangry monster on everyone.


Spinning away from the vehicles, she searched for a place to eat. There was someone on the swings, and despite the fact she knew what stranger danger as a concept was, Adeline couldn’t help but make her way over anyway. Her short hair fell into her eyes as she walked, and she pushed it back as she neared the other girl. “Mind if I sit?” She asked, gesturing with her grilled cheese holding hand toward the empty swing. Even if she was ready to inhale her dinner, she still hadn't really had many conversations outside of work. This was a prime opportunity.

 Halfway to shoveling another spoonful of gumbo into her mouth, she froze in place as if it were a game of freeze frame, tilted her head the slightest bit to look the other woman over. Young enough - human looking enough, no fangs or fur or anything else that waved a flag of danger as far as she could see. "Go for it ... grilled cheese?" It was dim, far enough from the occasional lamps that lined the pathway to only offer the faintest yellow tinged glow. "Wise choice."

 She tightened her hold on her plastic bowl a bit, stretched her legs back and moved the swing in the process with a squeal. "You from around here?" Weird time to be out if she wasn't, or in the very least worked nearby - not that she was in any position to pass judgement one way or the other. Really, she was just trying to avoid palpable silence for however long it might take for her to finish shoveling her dinner into her mouth.

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