June meant that most of Gaia flocked to the Isle de Gambino's beaches, drawn to the allure of a tropical lifestyle. For those who lived there, though, summer was when all the best restaurants were suddenly choked with lei-clad tourists.
This year was especially horrible – you couldn't go three feet without tripping over some hideous fluff monster. On one of his days off, even though the sky was powder blue and the surf calling gently, Lex decided he'd had enough.
He picked Barton because it lacked Aekea's sulfur smell and because Durem reminded him how much he missed Edmund. The problem was that the shopping scene in Barton just wasn't that great. Sure, Barton Boutique had some wild stuff, and he could go get some cupcakes from Buttercup Cafe to take home, but it didn't exactly cater to his dressy-casual style.
Lex found a shirt he liked anyway. He headed into the fitting room, but as he started unbuttoning he felt a chill, like someone blowing on the back of his neck with icy-cold breath.
“Arturo,” he muttered. “Long time no see.”
The translucent face of the long-dead star came into view in the mirror. “I am hurt, passeroto. I enjoyed your company so on your last visit, yet you did not return.”
“You ogled me while I was trying on pants. It was... weird.”
“Very well,” Arturo said, voice laden with spectral melancholy. “If you do not desire my company as I do yours, I will depart. Yet let me make one inquiry. Have you been working out? Your torso is, as they say, totally ripped.”
“You noticed?” Lex asked, mood lifting. Maybe hanging out in a dressing room with a creepy ghost wasn't so bad after all.
Lazarus Larkin · Thu Jun 27, 2013 @ 11:53pm · 0 Comments |