Aara looked disgustedly at the wall and then at the broken glass in the middle of the floor that appeared to have occupied the space for nigh on two weeks. It seemed that someone had broken it and then decided that it was much more convenient to maneuver oneself around it as apposed to merely sweeping it up. The house seemed unoccupied except for the assorted piles of dirty odds and ends and a large and thriving colony of dust mites. The first thought that crossed her mind was that of anger and then sheer and plain annoyance that he wasn't there. Then she thought that is was very likely that her annoyance would have been far greater had he been there for the nature of the visit was not that of a pleasant Saturday morning between friends but that of an agitated employer who is waiting for a belated payment of some kind. Perhaps the difference had something to do with the fact that it was not Saturday and the purpose of the visit was to fulfill a moral obligation, not to mention that business had to be attended to. Just as that thought was running circles through the mind of the now thoroughly annoyed woman standing at the door, a small but audible shuffling noise made it clear that the occupant of the house was indeed inside. Following the shuffling were some awkward sounding bangs which, in turn, provoked a string of muffled grumbles, some not so muffled curses and finally a sleepy and irritable voice saying, "Who are you and whaddauwant and if you really want it why so early??" Aara checked her watch and noted the time to be 11:49am. That was him alright, oh yes it was him. Aara cleared he throat and began to use the tone of voice that she had practiced the night before while the doorbell and phone weren’t ringing "I believe we were supposed to meet last night" That caused a stir in the unseen depths of the other room and Aara continued, "I suppose I must have been mistaken because surely you couldn't possibly have forgotten again."
This remark actually caused the appearance of a man in his late twenties to early thirties. His attire consisted of a pair of bell bottom Levies, and a Coors Light T_shirt that had only 1 sleeve and a large gash from the bottom of the side all the way up to the collar in the back. Aara has strong suspicions that this outfit had been purchased in the early 70s and had been worn every day since, then, telling herself not to be such a hard woman she supposed he must remove it to wash it at least once a month, that time seemed to be well overdue at the moment. The man, Mike, was tall, blond, and obviously hung over. His confused blue_green eyes blinked several times in the unexpected sunlight then settled on Aara who was giving him a look that would have melted a lesser man into a greasy spot on whatever poor excuse for a carpet was on the floor in Mike's house.
If truth be known, Mike's real name was not Michel nor anything even close but FreJasmBlortle, which in no way could you, extract 'Mike' from but since he liked it, It stuck. And anyway FreJasmBlortle seemed to scare away many people that should not be scared away (possible people who might hire him and pay him lots of money, which never seemed to happen anyway but still....). Mike was a photographer that nobody ever wanted to hire because of the simple inability to take pictures that didn't feature thumbs or the flying saucer that wasn't ever there, so on those pesky pamphlets for American Express cards that required a occupation he generally wrote “incapable and perpetually broke photographer”. That tended to cut the junk mail. Anyway, Mike belatedly changed the boggled expression to one that he hoped would have the same effect on her that her's was just beginning to have on him. He dismally failed and began to speak "I believe..." he began then trailed off into a sheepish grin and just laughed, hoping it would break up the tension.
Unfortunately for Mike, Aara was in a most horrible mood and was not to be easily put off track from her errand. Her expression simply got even more searing and Mike could see her jaw clamp. Within ten seconds, she had summed him up as a total slob, a loser, a nimrod, a walrusrod (hell, I don’t know) and a handful of other wonderful implements.
Mike sat down on the couch and then got up again, he always forgot how uncomfortable it was until he sat down and realized that it felt like it was stuffed with sawdust and cutlery. He eyed the figure of Aara standing at the door. She was short, maybe 5 foot 2, but she seemed to make up for her size by being powerful somehow. She had jet black hair that Mike was sure she could sit on but was tucked back into a kind of knot but her real power seemed to come from her eyes. Green eyes and very large, so large in fact that if she looked at you hard enough it gave you the illusion that you might just fall in. Her face was narrow with high cheek bones and a tiny nose, her chin was firm and at this moment, set. Mike observed that this seemed to give the impression that she was angry and suddenly it hit him, she was. Very angry, and though she had probably told him why, he simply hadn't been listening, so, thinking himself to be very slick, he patiently waited until she had finished yelling and used the conversation tactic that almost always worked, just repeat the last three or so words that the person speaking to you said last then add 'You're right' to the end of it. With this in mind Mike said calmly "Walrusrod, you're right." This created an explosion on Aara's part "What?" she yelled, "Where are my pictures? And what the hell is a walrusrod???"
"If they are in fact your pictures I don't know where they are" Mike coolly replied “and I’d like to know what a walrusrod is, seeing as you called me it”. He wasn't too happy about all the yelling and the endlessly circling conversation was starting to get to him. He could feel the pressure building in his aching head.
"What about the pictures that you were going to retake for me because you insulted my bugs?" Aara said in a voice that would have frozen all the Tibetan hot springs had she been in Tibet.
"Oh those" realized Mike "I was hoping you would know because I don't. Didn't I already give them to you and what's more you never paid me. But I don't see what's wrong with the first ones myself."
Aara stomped out and shut the door with a sharp bang that was magnified inside Mike's head to that of a nuclear explosion. He groaned and thought what stupid mindless idiot's humans were and sank down on his couch where he was stabbed in the butt with what he was sure must be a steak knife. He got up again and wandered to the kitchen where he took 6 Advil and drank 6 glasses of water and got half a dozen splinters of glass in his foot. He sighed, sat down on the floor and looked at his digital watch, which told him exactly what he didn't want to know. It was 11:59 Monday morning.
