Sunday, February 16, 2014

End Lesstin Kering X3 2/15/14

(note: see the Master Document for explanation of the End Lesstin Kering project.)
(This story was scrapped. As follows were my notes and writing at the point of being scrapped.)
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[Try to rephrase some of this. There's a bit of word-swampiness in the middle.]

The mild chatter of conversations flavored the air, isolating each table in its own pool of ignorance. No one was watching. And there was nothing to see. Like sheep, they were blissfully ignorant in their herd.
“Of course,” Lesstin Kering added, “bombs don't tick anymore.”
The man sitting across the table from Lesstin nodded sagely. He was old enough to have heard such things. “Wasn't that in a movie?” The man said. He sipped bland coffee from a waxed paper cup, both notable only for their ubiquity at these types of public support groups. “They said bombs vibrate now. The movie where they made soap, or something, wasn't it?”
“Why not?” Lesstin said. He didn't know what movie the man was talking about, and had never been close enough to a vibrating bomb to say much about it. “But it makes sense. Who would attach an explosive to a mechanical clock.”
“I”m not sure what to follow that with,” the man said. “My name is Howard Price, by the way.” He held a hand out to Lesstin.
Lesstin smiled, shook the man's hand. “Lesstin Kering.” Lesstin watched for recognition in the man's face, but saw nothing but polite amusement. Good. Because Lesstin recognized Howard Price. “Just go with the basics, if you can't think of anything. Where you're from, family, so on.”
“Of course.” Howard sounded happy to be relieved of responsibility or thought. Afterall, they were both new to the group, and had shared the same information a dozen times already, with different strangers. The real trick was working back to those topics, but Lesstin had simply handed it to him.
“I lived in Atlanta most of my life, other than in college.”
Lesstin noted the man's words, checking marks on a list in his mind. Howard Price. Check. Lived in Atlanta. Check. “What did you go to college for?”
The man smirked, “Because I had nothing else to do.” He laughed, short and awkward.
Lesstin smiled at the tired joke, but couldn't bring himself to laugh. Normally he might have for curtosey's sake, but not today.
“Actually,” Howard continued, “I wasted a lot of time at a few colleges in Minnesota, before finally managing a Communications degree.”
Went to college in Minnesota. Check. “Brrr!” Lesstin said. “Bit cold for an Atlanta man up there?”
“Indeed,” Howard's grin was as wide as he could manage. A happy man, enjoying the conversation. Meeting people, getting help. Lesstin had no idea what the group was supposed to help people with. He was only there to see one person, whom he was quickly coming to believe he had found.
“After I graduated,” Howard said, “some of my teachers had wanted me to stay, do graduate work, but I couldn't stand the cold, so I came back to Atlanta.”

[[[Bleh. Might reuse some parts later. I don't think he's quite crazy enough, here, to bomb an entire community support group. He's enraged, jealous, etc, but not a mad bomber.]]]

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