[Closed] A Preamble (Umberto)
Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2020 6:04 pm
Ophus 23, 2719
A. Borna Rare Books, The Stacks, late morning.
It had been an uneventful morning so far. Though, when one owns a bookshop, eventful mornings are generally unwanted, as they tend to signal that something has gone wrong. The only pressing matter that Antranig needed to attend to, after making breakfast and ensuring that the family banderwolf, Darcie, had been walked, was the need to write a set of letters to several of his contacts concerning a book that had been requested by one of his regulars. This was a task which was easily done seated behind the shop counter with a good pot of tea, and so that was where he found himself. Truth be told, it was where he found himself most days, which suited him perfectly well.
Sunlight streamed in the front windows, warming the shop against the frigid winter day outside. A sign on the glass of the front door proclaimed it was open, and gold calligraphy stamped on the window declared a simple but apt name for the business inside: A. Borna Rare Books. It was a modest shop, neatly organized and arranged. Tables and comfortable chairs near the windows offered places for students and other patrons to peruse the volumes that filled the openly accessible shelves, while further back, behind the counter, the more rare or expensive tomes were kept under the careful watch of the store owner himself, available upon request. Currently, one of the comfortable chairs was occupied by Antra’s son, Taniel, a boy of about nine, who was nose deep in an adventure novel.
Antra shifted as he finished the second of his letters, sitting back as he waited for the ink to dry, and turning his attention to the street outside. The cold had failed to hinder the usual morning bustle. People of all sorts wandered by, some laden with bread and other parcels, others with their collars turned up around their noses, hunkered down into their coats as they made their way through the snow and slush.
Taniel looked up from his book, and then out the window as well when he saw where his father’s attention was focused. “Are we going out today?” he asked.
"Around lunch,” Antra replied, “I’ll need to mail these letters. We’ll close up for a bit and stop somewhere to eat, how does that sound?”
The boy sat up and stretched his arms over his head. "Good," he replied, before taking up his book once more and continuing to read.
Antra smiled, watching the boy for a minute before he eye the little bell above the door, It remained silent, so he took up a fresh sheet of paper and began to write again.