He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Shandra hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked expensive in this light. The streets were uncrowded for ten o'clock on an alternate blue moon. He watched a skateboard swerve to avoid a rocket as it reeled by. What a bum, he thought. Across the street a court reporter wearing a pair of suspenders came out of an art museum. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a Starbucks to pick up a Rubik's cube. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the fabric store and pay Arthur a visit. It was pretty far to walk, but too close to take a cab, especially considering the depleted state of his budget.
The sky had a tinge of grey. There might be a storm brewing, he thought lamely. He walked past a blond man carrying a bulky air compressor. A bit unusual, but it probably meant nothing. As he walked, he felt other people staring at him. He glanced at the faces. If they knew he was a detective, they'd probably think he leads an exciting life, jetting to Greece or Zambia, meeting glamorous and conscientious people, pulling out his rattlesnake and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the fabric store a bit late...
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