Alex did his best not to loom over the two women and to look friendly.
He was a thin man with a young face. The two women were paying attention to him, which was nice. It made him feel, well not alive but something close. The first greeted him, she had a fun accent that Alex liked, and asked what he was doing here. The other woman held up a little clipboard and started taking notes. Alex liked that, the idea of taking small notes felt very appropriate. Even as he thought it he felt the shift in weight as something formed in his pocket. A small black notebook and pen. He held up a finger as if asking the two women to wait then pulled his coat over in front of himself so they could see he was reaching carefully into his pocket. From the outside it probably looked like he was putting on a show so the women didn't think he was going for a gun or weapon.
In truth he had never actually used his coat pocket before and wasn't sure how deep it was or what angle it fell at. Likely whatever depth or angle he wanted considering it wasn't a real coat anyway but he was very curious to find out. He dug in and found it exactly as deep as he had expected and a perfectly straight drop, perfect for holding a notebook. A second later he slowly pulled out a small black book, worn from years of use, with a pen fit inside the spine that left just enough space for it. All black and grey, even the pages looked to have been dyed that soft grey. Alex immediately loved it as it reminded him of the black and white detective stories some people dreamed of.
He flipped open the book but it was all empty, and taking out the pen he started to make notes too.
Crime scene.
Man murdered.
Very little fear
Not a mugging.
Met Two women. (Police?)
Made a notebook.
Then he looked back up remembering the two. He smiled again as he spoke, his whisper soft voice coming out a touch clearly this time- that seemed to happen when he felt more like a person. “I already said. I am here to help someone.”
He was a thin man with a young face. The two women were paying attention to him, which was nice. It made him feel, well not alive but something close. The first greeted him, she had a fun accent that Alex liked, and asked what he was doing here. The other woman held up a little clipboard and started taking notes. Alex liked that, the idea of taking small notes felt very appropriate. Even as he thought it he felt the shift in weight as something formed in his pocket. A small black notebook and pen. He held up a finger as if asking the two women to wait then pulled his coat over in front of himself so they could see he was reaching carefully into his pocket. From the outside it probably looked like he was putting on a show so the women didn't think he was going for a gun or weapon.
In truth he had never actually used his coat pocket before and wasn't sure how deep it was or what angle it fell at. Likely whatever depth or angle he wanted considering it wasn't a real coat anyway but he was very curious to find out. He dug in and found it exactly as deep as he had expected and a perfectly straight drop, perfect for holding a notebook. A second later he slowly pulled out a small black book, worn from years of use, with a pen fit inside the spine that left just enough space for it. All black and grey, even the pages looked to have been dyed that soft grey. Alex immediately loved it as it reminded him of the black and white detective stories some people dreamed of.
He flipped open the book but it was all empty, and taking out the pen he started to make notes too.
Crime scene.
Man murdered.
Very little fear
Not a mugging.
Met Two women. (Police?)
Made a notebook.
Then he looked back up remembering the two. He smiled again as he spoke, his whisper soft voice coming out a touch clearly this time- that seemed to happen when he felt more like a person. “I already said. I am here to help someone.”