Chapter 12: Mousy Margaret

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, January 27, 2009

He was walking down the street, looking at the autumn leaves falling and the sorrow wind washing up the streets of that old summer joy, when the thought of why was Margaret missing hit him really hard in the back of the head, that and a ball. "Sorry sir!" was heard from a group of kids who were a few yards away, of course that wasn't an apologetic plea, it was more like a Could you pass over the ball? But he couldn't loose time in his regular ball-puncturing-child-yelling activities, so he just kicked the ball.

He wasn't very sure about what could he do with this intelligence, she would probably be now in Tuxon for all he knew. "You know? For being a best-selling author you do go around the same problem quiet a lot" said Henry, out of nowhere, for no on was there. "What do you mean by no one? I mean seriously, in this entire novel I have done like nothing really, it should be awarded the most successful novel of the year by the Plotless Award organization" he as now just standing, talking to the air in a loud voice, then he just silenced. Come freaking on, do you really think you can silence me? I may be a character, but even I can say this story is crap. He thought, but then he went back to what he was doing previously, which was thinking about Margaret and the reason she had gone, the nature of her departure, the nature of her continous leaving, and his nature of perpetual inaction.

"The inaction wouldn't be so intense if only you could think of something decent..." he was interrupted by his Singing in the rain techno version ringtone. "Hello" he heard from the other side, he hadn't even looked at the number, it was an unknown one. "Geez, finally, some sort of mystery" said Henry, confusing the person in the phone. "Excuse me, but is this Peter Caroll?" asked the voice. "Well, I suppose that's my brother, who's phone this used to be. You see, he got a bit of a problem with the service so he just gave it to me, so then someone called him to ask him out, and well I answered, and I and Margaret--the girl calling-- kind of talked for a while and then we went out. Then some more coincidiential circumstances got us into seriously dating, yeet being wrapped in some sort of lameo mystery designed by a retiring writer who just wants to finish his contract with some crappy publishing house which is closing this year." he finally said, expecting the person at the other side would hang up by now. "So you do can contact me with him?" asked the voice, as if it had listened to nothing of the nonsense. "Well, yea I guess" he said with a bit of dissapointment "I don't know his number by memory but I can call you back right away"then the voice made some sort of beef "no, that won't do, please don't tell him I called. I will call you later" said the voice, making no sense. "Well, this really makes it, are you really using the stranger calling getting me into another conflict idea again? And I bet this will be related at the end with Margaret and her secret reason to leave the city right?" Henry asked to the air, for the voice had already hang up

When he finished to scribble the number of the stranger in a napkin "Sure, because I always carry a napkin..." he had gotten from the coffee shop in the way, he walked to the next avenue and called a cab. "Where are you heading?" asked the taxi driver "You're white to avoid political incorrectness? Or is it just irnony?" asked Henry, again speaking nonsense, to which the taxi driver just stared at him "Between the Second and Fuller" Henry finally said. "I'm not ever going to get out of here am I? I mean, I will be bound to repeat this cheap plot over and over again, finding outMargaret was tangled with drug dealers who shipped the cocaine in curtains. I mean, I do give you that it gives kind of a plot twist given that she will give misleading clues, but I'm really never getting out of this created drama I call life right?"

"No,I think not" said the taxi driver. "Excuse me?" said Henry, frightened by the comment. "I think those are not the streets sir, I mean Second and Fuller are not paralells" said the taxi driver. "Sure..whatever" said Henry

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