Post by Ebony Wynter on Aug 25, 2007 20:48:18 GMT -5
The world was painted in somber shades of gray today. The sky was a flat sheet of that dull color, and it seemed to stretch for eternity. It looped back in itself, stretching tendrils of flat cloud out, and suspended itself in the air. Flat and gray with little patches of darker gray or black littered the sky. It was if someone had taken only three kinds of paint and splattered it on an old, worn out canvas. The air was cool and tinged with the crisp scent of rain, and droplets shining like diamonds clung to the rain covered leaves of the plants surrounded the area. The air was cool, saturated, and a slight breeze blew hard enough to ruffle the leaves and hair. The cement of the sidewalks had darkened, rain stained, and now gave off an earthy scent. Everything gave off that earthy scent. Like clean dirt or newly born trees. Ebony enhaled it before walking in the cafe, the little bell above his head jingling quietly.
He was a tall youth, standing at around 6'1, and slender. Everything about Ebony was slender, bony, and angles. He seemed to be all angles. His normally dry blue-black hair was dampened from the drizzle and hung in surprisingly wide and brilliant green eyes. Alabaster skin covered every inch of Ebony's slender frame, and in the semi-darkness of the cafe it gave off an eerie glow. He was beautiful, yes beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, flawless skin, and gorgeous eyes. He was graceful, awkward, shy, and uncomfortable in social situations. An artist, the youth was clad all in black with a black messenger bag slung over his shoulder. That bag had been to hell and back again, and it honestly looked it. Frayed and covered with pins and patches of obscure bands, Ebony's messenger bag was his safety line. It held everything he needed, including his camera.
There wasn't anyone in there, really. No one would go out in this weather. Feeling a small drop of water slide down the back of his neck, Ebony shivered and stood waiting for his cup of coffee. Black and steaming, Ebony carried the hot liquid to a corner table near a window. He could see the vast expanse of rain covered land now. Water droplets clung to the crystal clear window, and they fought with each other as they slid down the smooth glass. It was silent. Looking down at the steaming cup of coffee, Ebony noted the dancing tendrils of steam. He wrapped his slender fingers around the cup, the heat burning his hand, but left them there. His skin prickled, tingled, and became alive with the feeling of heat. When he pulled them away they were red.
Ebony concentrated on staring out the window. There wasn't much else he could do. He had already gotten his daily "fix" of photography, and now he was chilly from the cool, rainy air that enveloped the place. Fog was low on the ground, misty and mysterious, as Ebony stared out the window. There wasn't anyone in here that he would talk to. Silence was the key to Ebony's life. He was a nervous and uncomfortable person around people. Pity, really.
He was a tall youth, standing at around 6'1, and slender. Everything about Ebony was slender, bony, and angles. He seemed to be all angles. His normally dry blue-black hair was dampened from the drizzle and hung in surprisingly wide and brilliant green eyes. Alabaster skin covered every inch of Ebony's slender frame, and in the semi-darkness of the cafe it gave off an eerie glow. He was beautiful, yes beautiful. High cheekbones, full lips, flawless skin, and gorgeous eyes. He was graceful, awkward, shy, and uncomfortable in social situations. An artist, the youth was clad all in black with a black messenger bag slung over his shoulder. That bag had been to hell and back again, and it honestly looked it. Frayed and covered with pins and patches of obscure bands, Ebony's messenger bag was his safety line. It held everything he needed, including his camera.
There wasn't anyone in there, really. No one would go out in this weather. Feeling a small drop of water slide down the back of his neck, Ebony shivered and stood waiting for his cup of coffee. Black and steaming, Ebony carried the hot liquid to a corner table near a window. He could see the vast expanse of rain covered land now. Water droplets clung to the crystal clear window, and they fought with each other as they slid down the smooth glass. It was silent. Looking down at the steaming cup of coffee, Ebony noted the dancing tendrils of steam. He wrapped his slender fingers around the cup, the heat burning his hand, but left them there. His skin prickled, tingled, and became alive with the feeling of heat. When he pulled them away they were red.
Ebony concentrated on staring out the window. There wasn't much else he could do. He had already gotten his daily "fix" of photography, and now he was chilly from the cool, rainy air that enveloped the place. Fog was low on the ground, misty and mysterious, as Ebony stared out the window. There wasn't anyone in here that he would talk to. Silence was the key to Ebony's life. He was a nervous and uncomfortable person around people. Pity, really.
