09-13-2015, 12:44 PM
Overcast. Of course it was overcast. When was it not cloudy in London these days. Even when the stifling hot summers came in, the sky was still usually grey, which just made it humid as well as hot. Alex was fairly certain that some ancient being had cursed London to give it terrible, but fairly warm weather.
Or he was being silly, and it was just where Britain was in the world. Gulf Stream current makes us warmer than other regions on our latitude.
He gave a small snort. Secondary school geography was useful for something, at least.
Alex gave a heavy yawn as he paced through the early morning London streets, pulling his long winter coat further around him. It had been far too long since he had been made to get out of bed this early; his last job had been working security for a local nightclub, one he'd quit pretty much instantly. Like all the shitty jobs he had been picking up since he had resigned from the Met. None of them... They didn't push him enough. it was arrogant, yes, but Alex was far above being a bouncer or security guard. He'd studied at Oxford for fucks sake; not that anyone cared of course, because he hadn't been able to collect his shiny piece of paper. This new job looked promising though. An American detective with quite a lot of experience. Alex was nervous about going into this sort of work again, the dreadful images of that damned warehouse flashing in front of him again. He stopped, leaning against the nearby wall, trying to take deep breaths as one of his small panic attacks hit. Eventually recovering, he continued on, head down, ignoring the inquisitive looks of passerby's.
Alex looked at the pasty in his hand, taking another absent bite from it. Thank God for Greggs.
Wasn't the best quality stuff, but it tasted nice, and was cheap, and that was all Alex really needed. It wasn't long before he was making his way into the more commercial area of London. He fished the small piece of paper he had with the address, and headed off down the street he needed to.
It wasn't long before Alex found the office block, and he moved through the entrance door, dodging other tired commuters heading to their daily grind. Consulting the little scrap of paper again, he ignored the elevator with the rather large queue, taking the stairs.
He found the office he wanted, and stared pensively at the large letters on the glass.
FOWLES PRIVATE DETECTIVE AGENCY
Opening the door, he peered into a plant covered room, with an elderly bespectacled man reading a newspaper at the desk. Alex coughed slightly, getting him to look up.
"Um, Morning."
Alex greeted him in his soft voice. "This Detective Fowler's office?"
Or he was being silly, and it was just where Britain was in the world. Gulf Stream current makes us warmer than other regions on our latitude.
He gave a small snort. Secondary school geography was useful for something, at least.
Alex gave a heavy yawn as he paced through the early morning London streets, pulling his long winter coat further around him. It had been far too long since he had been made to get out of bed this early; his last job had been working security for a local nightclub, one he'd quit pretty much instantly. Like all the shitty jobs he had been picking up since he had resigned from the Met. None of them... They didn't push him enough. it was arrogant, yes, but Alex was far above being a bouncer or security guard. He'd studied at Oxford for fucks sake; not that anyone cared of course, because he hadn't been able to collect his shiny piece of paper. This new job looked promising though. An American detective with quite a lot of experience. Alex was nervous about going into this sort of work again, the dreadful images of that damned warehouse flashing in front of him again. He stopped, leaning against the nearby wall, trying to take deep breaths as one of his small panic attacks hit. Eventually recovering, he continued on, head down, ignoring the inquisitive looks of passerby's.
Alex looked at the pasty in his hand, taking another absent bite from it. Thank God for Greggs.
Wasn't the best quality stuff, but it tasted nice, and was cheap, and that was all Alex really needed. It wasn't long before he was making his way into the more commercial area of London. He fished the small piece of paper he had with the address, and headed off down the street he needed to.
It wasn't long before Alex found the office block, and he moved through the entrance door, dodging other tired commuters heading to their daily grind. Consulting the little scrap of paper again, he ignored the elevator with the rather large queue, taking the stairs.
He found the office he wanted, and stared pensively at the large letters on the glass.
FOWLES PRIVATE DETECTIVE AGENCY
Opening the door, he peered into a plant covered room, with an elderly bespectacled man reading a newspaper at the desk. Alex coughed slightly, getting him to look up.
"Um, Morning."
Alex greeted him in his soft voice. "This Detective Fowler's office?"