Young Writers Society

(Nice)

"Did you win?" Was there even a winner at an auction? He glanced toward the door; the lettuce would probably be shriveled in another two hours; he should plan to leave in about an hour, then. Or sooner, if Esmond was going to stay.

"Uh..." Esmond hesitated, taken off guard by a question that stupid. What was he even talking about? "I... uh... I mean, I was selling, not buying. But it went okay. Got better prices than I did today, anyway. My steers went cheap this afternoon, unfortunately."

"Mm." He looked down into his glass, pushing his spectacles up his nose. "Sorry to hear that." Now go away; leave him be. He had nothing to say to this man, and he knew Esmond had nothing worth saying either.

"Eh." Esmond shrugged. He knew he wasn't going to get any sort of authentic sympathy from this man; and he didn't want it, either. "... what are you up to today?"

Nicholas sighed inwardly and straightened a little. "Very little," he replied. "I'm having company tonight, though." If you could call it that.

"Oh yeah?" Esmond asked politely.

He nodded and took another drink.

Marie had noticed Esmond come in and watched as he approached the Reverend. Anyone with half a brain could tell Reverend Aspen was ill at ease with social interactions on a good day, and this wasn't a good day. He looked like he'd only just rolled out of bed. Probably hung over, if she knew him. But here Esmond was, chatting to the poor man as if there was nothing wrong. She was sure he could see Aspen was trying to end the conversation, but it seemed he was more than willing to continue talking. Typical. She took a hefty swig of beer. Maybe she'd save the Reverend, if it kept going.

Esmond was getting bored of the conversation. Or lack thereof. "Well... hope that goes well for you, then."

"Thank you." He finished his beer and scooted the glass forward; the bartender would get him another one.

Marie leaned back; good. Hopefully that would be that.

Esmond noticed her as she moved and nodded to her, taking a step that way. "Hey Marie, how's it going?"

Dammit. She picked up her stout. "Esmond." She nodded to him. "Slow day at the shop; how about you?" She could at least pretend to be polite, which was what was about to doom her. She caught the Reverend's eye as he glanced up, but he turned away almost immediately, shoulders hunched. Pitiful old coot.

(ahhhh a local pizza shop was offering a $4 off coupon but only if you called not used the website to order so I really do feel like I'm back to the freaking 00's calling instead of tech the horrors lol)

"Not too bad," Esmond said, nodding to her. "Just figured I'd stop for a beer on my way home from the stockyard."

(Oh man)

"Coming back from an auction, are you? How'd that go?"

"Eh." He shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "They went cheap today, but I still made some money, so alright, I guess. I don't think I'll be frequenting any more Tuesday afternoon sales soon, though. Saturday mornings seem to be better luck."

"That makes sense." She nodded. "Nothing happens on Tuesdays."