Tuesday, Spring 2
The work load wasn't too heavy that day, not too many people came and ate there that day, and this made him sigh in relief, yet at the same time, he was worried for his pay load. He had a moments break, a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead, take a breath, set down the tray of dishes, and take a moment to remember the orders that the customer had given him. He pulled the notepad up to his face as he realized this was the last one of the night, then the inn would be closing for the bar. The notepad read Specialty. He sighed and went straight to get the food. His rest was up and he still had one last order to do. He picked up the order quietly, as everything seemed to be moving smoothly, then walked up to the table where the customers sat. "good afternoon, here's your order." He set the order on the table, paying no mind to who was sitting there, then continued on with putting everything away, and help setting up the place for the night.
After everything was said and done, he was to leave. He would take a look out the window and the sun would be just above the mountains. If he hurried, he would get some time to simply roam the streets of forget-me-not valley. He would get a chance to see the flowers rise from the ground a bit, and possibly have enough time to sketch the beautiful life. He wanted to do this, as he hadn't had a chance earlier on in his career due to later hours of work. He ran out the door waving goodbye to his boss, with a friendly smile, and ran all the way down the street. He was determined to get a chance at the scenery, the scenery that he missed so many times before.
As he ran by the forest he didn't take his time to really stop and say good afternoon as he had been doing that all day, and he didn't really stop at all when he did pass some of the great scenes of the town. He had to run, and with it. He reached his home. He nearly fell as he reached the door to the small house, and took a deep breath once he made it there. His hands were leaning against his knees. sweat would be dripping down his face. He was breathing heavily and stairing at the ground. He had time to spare, but not to much if he wanted to stop and see the flowers.
He entered the house and grabbed his other clothes, simply putting them on over his uniform, and switching his shoes to boots in case it rained. He grabbed a drawing pad and a pencil, and with that, he was off on the run again, or sort of. He would take the time to stroll a crossed Forget-Me-Not's Road to reach the flowers that he wanted to look at. He stopped in front of an open area that was behind some of the buildings and crouched down. with this he put his hand in the grass and took a good look at the flowers. He carefully sketched their image onto the paper. Nothing significant to call art, but it was a simple log of it's growth. He smiled, he loved the flowers in this village. They were hardly forgettable in the spring and summer.
He knew it would be dark soon, so he took to himself quickly and headed back to the house. He would take note of how rediculous it was to run home for a single flower, and would mumble under his breath. "now that wasn't very manly..." he did this often when he was around flowers, or things he liked that weren't exactly manly in any way. He opened the door to his house and left his shoes at the door. He had taken off his coat and changed into more confortable clothes. the only thing he seemed to leave on was a scarf that he wore when he was sketching the flowers. If it was okay to bring it to work he would have done that as well, but he made it known to himself that he would wear that scarf any time he could.
With all of that out of the way he was comfortable enough to cook himself a meal and eat at the small table that he had. He pulled out his ingredients and began too cook, he was treating himself to pasta that night, something that he usually couldn't have all the time. Usually he had to experiment with whatever was in the fridge, but he managed to fix himself an actual meal. He ate the meal quickly and washed the dishes. After that, and a bit of cleaning up he would soon go to bed. Propping up the stick in the window, for the next morning, when the moon was just above the horizon.