He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Doris hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked queer in this light. The streets were crowded for nine o'clock on a Tuesday. He watched a Toyota Prius swerve to avoid a cargo van as it slid by. What a nincompoop, he thought. Across the street a librarian wearing a ribbon came out of a shoe store. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a fortune teller shop to pick up a bicycle. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the convenience 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 brilliant orange. There might be a storm brewing, he thought temperamentally. He walked past a cadaverous man carrying a slimy dart. 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 Armenia or Austria, meeting glamorous and haughty people, pulling out his can of pepper spray and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the convenience store a bit late...
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