At Coney Island Pier (open)
The strangely overdressed young man sat on a wooden bench, warily eyeing the seagulls gliding above him. Between their garish squawking and the danger they posed to the spotless condition to his cream-coloured three piece suit, there wasn’t much about their current position over his head that he particularly cared for.
“Shoo!” A few minutes of wild walking-stick waving managed to disperse them and he continued his quiet admiration of the view from the pier.
New York was very much different than London. He’d only had to be in the city a day to learn that. There were a great many unusual people with many unusual characteristics running about, many even more unusual than him. This both relieved and disappointed him. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to guard his secret so carefully now, but he didn’t at all enjoy being outdone. Plus, he didn't know anyone here and that made him feel something deeper than loneliness.
I have no soul. I don't exist unless someone is looking at me.
Adjusting the brim of his straw boater hat, he turned his head to gaze down the pier. Someone was walking towards him. He had heard that his particular area was inhabited by a gang and hoped if this was one of its members, that they were susceptible to charm, being that that was his weapon of choice. Well, that and the letter opener.
“Shoo!” A few minutes of wild walking-stick waving managed to disperse them and he continued his quiet admiration of the view from the pier.
New York was very much different than London. He’d only had to be in the city a day to learn that. There were a great many unusual people with many unusual characteristics running about, many even more unusual than him. This both relieved and disappointed him. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to guard his secret so carefully now, but he didn’t at all enjoy being outdone. Plus, he didn't know anyone here and that made him feel something deeper than loneliness.
I have no soul. I don't exist unless someone is looking at me.
Adjusting the brim of his straw boater hat, he turned his head to gaze down the pier. Someone was walking towards him. He had heard that his particular area was inhabited by a gang and hoped if this was one of its members, that they were susceptible to charm, being that that was his weapon of choice. Well, that and the letter opener.