Post by ricky adams on Jan 6, 2011 9:43:47 GMT -5
If there was on thing Ricky loved more than a chocolate bar, it was chocolate milk! There he sat outside Rob's Diner, sipping at a tall glass of chocolate milk through a straw. He listened to the rain pattering outside the awning where he sat. He didn't mind the rain, in fact he liked it. The sound of the water hitting the ground, the fabric of the shelter above him him, splashing in the puddles and echoing off tin roofs beyond was soothing. He enjoyed it.
As he sipped his drink he also nibbled on plate of hot french fries. The hamburger that had been the main meal was long gone and now he just devoured the fries, wanting to make sure there were no survivors. His clothing was normal, except for the scarf he wore about his neck. It wasn't thick and woolly, it was thin and made from sheer fabric. He'd wrapped it several times around his neck for reasons of his own.
As he finished his drink, noisily slurping down the last remains and then tossing his straw away and tilting the glass back into his mouth, getting the final drops of his precious beverage. After adjusting his silver framed glasses over his green eyes again, Ricky reached into his bag and pulled out a book. Along came his waitress and he kept his face hidden behind the book, getting the bill and then tapping his glass and using his fingers to mime walking. The woman understood and left as Ricky put his money onto the table and return he got a foam cup with more chocolate milk in it.
"Good-bye Ricky! Come again!" The woman called.
Ricky nodded, standing up and waving, heading off with his book in hand and his chocolate milk in the other. As he walked down the street, his shoes splashing through the puddles. He thought he'd heard some other pair of feet splashing in the puddles behind him and paused. They paused too. He glanced over his shoulder and saw who it was behind him.
He didn't recognize who it was but he smiled, waved at the person in a friendly manner and then put away his book. This was no time to be anti-social. He pointed to the awning of the next store and moved forward, glancing over his shoulder a couple times to make sure he was followed. Under the awning he went, and took from his bag a note pad and a pen. He held up his pointer finger in a 'wait one moment' gesture and then began to write. 'Hello. My name is Ricky. What's yours? Is there something you want? I'm sorry, I can't speak so this is the only way I can communicate with you.' and he passed the notebook over, maintaining eye contact.
As he sipped his drink he also nibbled on plate of hot french fries. The hamburger that had been the main meal was long gone and now he just devoured the fries, wanting to make sure there were no survivors. His clothing was normal, except for the scarf he wore about his neck. It wasn't thick and woolly, it was thin and made from sheer fabric. He'd wrapped it several times around his neck for reasons of his own.
As he finished his drink, noisily slurping down the last remains and then tossing his straw away and tilting the glass back into his mouth, getting the final drops of his precious beverage. After adjusting his silver framed glasses over his green eyes again, Ricky reached into his bag and pulled out a book. Along came his waitress and he kept his face hidden behind the book, getting the bill and then tapping his glass and using his fingers to mime walking. The woman understood and left as Ricky put his money onto the table and return he got a foam cup with more chocolate milk in it.
"Good-bye Ricky! Come again!" The woman called.
Ricky nodded, standing up and waving, heading off with his book in hand and his chocolate milk in the other. As he walked down the street, his shoes splashing through the puddles. He thought he'd heard some other pair of feet splashing in the puddles behind him and paused. They paused too. He glanced over his shoulder and saw who it was behind him.
He didn't recognize who it was but he smiled, waved at the person in a friendly manner and then put away his book. This was no time to be anti-social. He pointed to the awning of the next store and moved forward, glancing over his shoulder a couple times to make sure he was followed. Under the awning he went, and took from his bag a note pad and a pen. He held up his pointer finger in a 'wait one moment' gesture and then began to write. 'Hello. My name is Ricky. What's yours? Is there something you want? I'm sorry, I can't speak so this is the only way I can communicate with you.' and he passed the notebook over, maintaining eye contact.
