Thread: [Dream & Tortoise] To The Countryside;;

That particular August day had brought about sugary winds with the essence of cherries and freshly bake pastries. It was rather refreshing seeing as this particular woman was seldom greeted with such a comforting, clean gust. In the city everything seemed clouded with smoke and smog the air itself wreaked of greasy cheeseburgers and rotting sewage. Vile aromas perhaps, but it was still in a sense, nostalgic and inviting for those indigenous to the city itself. Estelle, a bronze-skinned Latina fresh from Brazil, hailing of a rich though partial Hispanic lineage, was one of those indigenous. She was a kind, free spirit, inexplicably selfless and exotic. She left her busy - though monotonous - life in the city to further her career in the country for a few weeks. Sure, catering to rich business moguls was entertaining, but it wasn't exactly humbling. That being said, she thought it be best to reside in country and give a helping hand where it was needed ... free of charge, of course. Estelle required absolutely no compensation for her time. While her employers were flabbergasted, they weren't one to question as to why. Perhaps one of the most skilled chefs they had ever seen, offering to cater their little festival for free? Who were they to say no? The curvaceous, rather tall woman hailed for a cab by waving one down with her frantic hands. A close friend of hers who had so kindly volunteered to aid her currently was in possession of her vehicle. The car came to an abrupt stop - the cab driver himself seemed quite in a hurry and overwhelmed by the country heat. With sublime elegance Estelle hopped in the back seat, securing her belongings neatly in her lap. Where to? the man uttered choppily, smacking away at his once peppermint flavoured chewing gum. Estelle gently cocked her head to the side and with it had went her gentle black waves. Downtown. Her voice was downy and kind motherly in a sense but also had a fitting regalness to it. The cab driver nodded and pulled the car out of park, veering off down the virtually empty street. Her stop was nearly ten minutes away and Estelle couldn't wait! - even with the air conditioning, the dingy yellow vehicle was stuffy. She reached for her purse and rummaged about, producing all but one quite tattered dollar bill. Vexed, she searched again for more money, but to no avail. The cab driver immediately knew the look. Estelle fumbled for the door's lever and stumbled out of the vehicle, already being pursued by the angry cab driver. Hey you, woman! he sneered, the scent of peppermint faint on his rather pungent breath, You owe me 15.67! I'll call the police if you don't pay up! Though the situation seemed rather hopeless on her end, she still managed to maintain some diligent calmness. I apologize but I must have left my wallet in my friend's car. Her stoic, august tone angered him further. He advanced and with clammy hands, snagged the crown of her top. Despite her height she seemed to be no match for the burly cab driver. I said give me my fucking money. Eventually she jerked free she reached downward into her jeans' pockets and finally managed to procure a decent amount of coin to pay the man. She dropped the crumpled bills into the driver's clammy palms, collected her tote and trekked down the street into the building where her catering service was hosted. When she stepped inside, she was greeted with a welcoming waft of frigid air. The A.C., no doubt, and she wasn't in any stance to complain. With her glittering, emerald eyes she mapped out the room accordingly and followed the corridor into a rather large chamber. Inside were several other people, all clearly hailing from the city. They adorned baggy articles of clothing - plaid shorts, loose tees and brand-name footwear that seemed a little too expensive for their extravagant tastes and promisingly low salary. More then half of the men stopped to watch the woman with ogling eyes while she trekked over to some of the containers they sported. Gentlemen, may I ask where the chocolate cupcakes are? The kindness in her voice overwhelmed them. One man, a familiar face, approached, plucking a transparent, air-tight container from the neat stack. Right here, dummy, he teased. This man was none other then Asher, a childhood friend and self-proclaimed prankster. Even know as he neared twenty-three and Estelle twenty-four, he still acted like a fourteen year old fresh out of middle school. There's a guy out there sorting through your goodies, 'Stelle! It was a futile attempt on Asher's part to make a sexual innuendo, Want me to take 'em to the dude or ...? Estelle shook her had and plucked forth three of the large containers with relative ease and veered off, somehow maintaining her balance even supporting pounds and pounds of chocolate pastries. She took note of one man - a rather tall gentleman at that - rummaging through containers without spoils to call his own. She approached the man from behind and ever so gentle tapped him on his broad shoulders. There was something about the shade of his shaggy, dirty blond hair that had stricken a nostalgic nerve, though she disdained the sensation for the time being. Excuse me, sir. Are these what you were looking for? listulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistu