Kevin had been home after a long day’s work of ever pleasant broadcasting and was making himself something to eat when he heard his door being worked open. Odd, he was sure annual cleaning day wasn’t until next Tuesday! Who would be forcing themselves into his apartment at this our?
Curiously and ever so happily, he left his stove to go and wonder over to the corner of the kitchen doorway to peer out to see who his visitor was. Wouldn’t want to frighten them if they weren’t expecting him, after all! A shame they didn’t let him know they were coming. He wasn’t sure if he had enough food for two.
He may have been afraid, if he paid attention to his tremors at all but he sure felt fine.
Rich was on holiday. Far away from home, which was pretty new and a bit exciting and also pretty scary for him. America, Nightvale. A small village in the desert, somebody from his friends told him would be great ot have some relaxed days.
So he sat in the bus looked out into the desert and listened to his music. Then the bus drove into the small town and Rich was just looking at everything. He didn’t want to be too touristical, it was just sooo different from London and he just couldn’t wait to see everything of this little town.
As he stood outside with his luggage, he looked around for someone who could help him with the directions. And since he might looked pretty lost, someone was already approaching him.
“You wouldn’t happen to know what year it is, would you?” As embarrassing as the question was, Sanjay felt it was best not to ask about the exact time and date as well. He figured this was a consequence of time travel that he’d just have to deal with.
" Carlos- I need you please- you're not picking up.. they're hurting me.. you have to get to the station the minute you hear this.." Cecil murmured into his cellphone which he had cleverly hidden in his trousers since he ended up stuck in this booth.
My, you must be Cecil. So glad to know you are having a good time with my Kevin~
Carlos is currently unavailable. I will be sure to pass on the message, however.
It had never been his intention as a student of architecture to get the attention of his university. The goal, naturally, had been to acquire the skill set required to be successful in the world of civil engineering. But according to his graduate professors, and now his sponsors, he had more of a flair for the artistic and ingenious than he had thought. Some had teasingly began to dub him as the new Frank Lloyd Wright.
He hadn’t been inclined to agree with the praise until the Wright foundation had awarded him a scholarship for a private home design. That had gotten him the attention of his university, and apparently of the journalism department.
As a graduating senior, it wasn’t exactly his biggest concern to give an undergraduate journalist his breaking scoop, but as a show of good will he’d agreed to the preliminary interview at the library. He could only hope that it wouldn’t take up too much of his time.