James Cooper
August 18, 2039, 8:50 AM
Central BrooklynA rogue does not laugh in the same way an honest man does; a hypocrite does not shed the tears of a man of good faith. All falsehood is a mask; and however well made the mask may be, with a little attention we may always succeed in distinguishing it from the true face.James sighed and lowered the book for a moment. He'd be happy to see any face, really. There had to be other people somewhere. Maybe....maybe he could scavenge for one again today. There probably wouldn't be any. There never were. But at least he always found some neat books! Like this one: The Three Mus...ket...teers? He wasn't really sure what a Musketeer was, but it was a very nice book. Lots of people talking to each other, fight with and against other people, building camaraderie, falling in love... Other people must be great; there are so many things to do with them.
James closed the book and, having noted the page number, set it down on his bed. As he got up, humming notes in no particular order, a series of short pops sounded in the distance.
Oh, is it that time already? I thought it only got crackly later on. Guess it's time to start moving, then.Unperturbed, he moved in the direction of his small kitchen, picking up a backpack that lay next to the counter as he did. The young man opened a cabinet, then smiled at his mistake as he saw it was empty. The next one over was more fruitful, and he pulled a can of creamed corn from the shelf and stuffed it into his bag.
Still smiling and humming, he slung the pack over his shoulder, picked up the sledgehammer resting against the doorframe, and made his way outside.