Aestrix rounded a corner, eyes roaming the street to make sure that no one was watching. He was trying not to draw attention to himself but it was hard to do when he hadn't slept in days and was disheveled to the point where he was close to hallucinating. He took a tired step forward before tripping over a box of markers. Why... was there a box of markers in the middle of the side walk? He didn't know.
He looked around again before picking it up, noting a pregnant woman sitting next to a mother with her three children. Waving, his expression lit up. "How goes?" He called, waving to fingers. The women ignored him and continued scrolling on their Scratch Pads.
Rix stepped forwards again, managing to make it to the end of the street where he could hear a joyous auctioneer rambling out numbers on a podium not to far away.
An air conditioner rambled about uselessly a couple feet away, the declaration of war going unnoticed by the people passing by. He nodded at the mortician man that passed him. Weird.
Struggling up the stairs to his apartment was hard enough but once he got up there he tripped over a bottle of syrup. What the hell? He picked it up and brought it inside with him before drunkenly starting towards his room before falling onto his bed and falling asleep within a minute of his face hitting the pillow.
Aestrix glanced up at the grandfather clock that sat at the back of the studio apartment, wondering if it still worked. Noticing the time, he waited for the bang and clang of the new hour that soon rang through the disheveled
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