Echo Bazaar: Handkerchiefs
[Written quickly & a bit messily...I had forgotten how many animals live with Asher haha That part sounds ridiculously drawn out, but I wanted to include them all]
Asher trudged down the street toward the Bazaar, resisting the urge to sneeze once again. His hands were shoved in his coat pockets, and he was uncharacteristically hunched over, as if he was attempting to withdraw into himself. He could not be bothered to walk silently, so his odd sounds of "step, silence, step, silence" - courtesy of Mr. Sacks - drew confused looks from those who noticed it. Finally entering the Bazaar, Asher immediately located the stall of the silk dealer and slammed some rostygold pieces on the table.
"'Ow many 'andkerchiefs can I get wi' this?" he asked, sniffling. The silk dealer looked up into Asher's bloodshot eyes and smiled. "Ah, I'm assuming you don't care about embroidering, so," he paused, counting out the rostygold, "twenty plain silk kerchiefs."
Asher nodded, stuffing the newly-bought handkerchiefs into his pockets before almost running back to his flat. He desperately wanted to blow his nose, but he would not do it out in the middle of the street. Perhaps he could slip into some alley - no, no, he was almost home now.
Once inside, Asher slammed the door behind him, startling the other inhabitants - the weasel and mandrake jerked awake; the bats swarmed confusedly; the lizard poked his head out of the water closet; the spider scurried under the couch; the monkey released the raven from his grasp; and the Talkative Rat spilled all his cards, ruining whatever game the rats were playing. Asher ignored all this and headed straight for the kitchen sink. He turned on the water and began blowing his nose, throwing the used handkerchiefs under the spray to be thoroughly washed later.
About five minutes later, Asher sagged forward over the counter, letting the buzzing in his head calm down before straightening back up. He eyed the pile of dirty handkerchiefs in the sink and sighed before rolling up his sleeves, "Righ' then, I'll probably be needin' these again soon, so let's get ta work."
Asher trudged down the street toward the Bazaar, resisting the urge to sneeze once again. His hands were shoved in his coat pockets, and he was uncharacteristically hunched over, as if he was attempting to withdraw into himself. He could not be bothered to walk silently, so his odd sounds of "step, silence, step, silence" - courtesy of Mr. Sacks - drew confused looks from those who noticed it. Finally entering the Bazaar, Asher immediately located the stall of the silk dealer and slammed some rostygold pieces on the table.
"'Ow many 'andkerchiefs can I get wi' this?" he asked, sniffling. The silk dealer looked up into Asher's bloodshot eyes and smiled. "Ah, I'm assuming you don't care about embroidering, so," he paused, counting out the rostygold, "twenty plain silk kerchiefs."
Asher nodded, stuffing the newly-bought handkerchiefs into his pockets before almost running back to his flat. He desperately wanted to blow his nose, but he would not do it out in the middle of the street. Perhaps he could slip into some alley - no, no, he was almost home now.
Once inside, Asher slammed the door behind him, startling the other inhabitants - the weasel and mandrake jerked awake; the bats swarmed confusedly; the lizard poked his head out of the water closet; the spider scurried under the couch; the monkey released the raven from his grasp; and the Talkative Rat spilled all his cards, ruining whatever game the rats were playing. Asher ignored all this and headed straight for the kitchen sink. He turned on the water and began blowing his nose, throwing the used handkerchiefs under the spray to be thoroughly washed later.
About five minutes later, Asher sagged forward over the counter, letting the buzzing in his head calm down before straightening back up. He eyed the pile of dirty handkerchiefs in the sink and sighed before rolling up his sleeves, "Righ' then, I'll probably be needin' these again soon, so let's get ta work."