The Book : Part 5

Welcome to a mini series brought to you by Christopher J. Perger. If you are first time reading this blog segment, I highly suggest that you start with "The Book : Part 1". After all, the only climax you'll get is from the proper illustrated placement.

Cheers!

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The last call for New York, folks. I repeat, this is the last call for New York!

"How do these people live like this?" I asked as I flopped out the day's newspaper upon my lap.
"One day at a time, brother. Just how they've been doing it for centuries," Sharice said as she eyed herself through her mini-makeup set. The oval mirror captured her face in stages of looking this way and that as she dabbed her face with blush, lipstick and the sorts.
"It bothers me."
"You bother me."
"But really, sister. These people spend their lives doing fiasco after fiasco. Don't they know it doesn't matter? It's such a small jump from birth to death and yet they-"
"Julius, don't you realize how jealous you are?" Sharice halted her pamperings and turned towards me, her face in quandary.
"Jealous of what? Them?"
She threw a shoulder up and nodded. "Yes, them. You're ranting as though they disgust you, yet we both know what they have is completely unappreciative through their eyes. Life, brother. Life." She turned back to her oval mirror as though her concern for my concern was long gone.
"I hadn't known you cared so much for them," I said with a shrug.
"I hadn't known you did either," she softly replied. "And he should be here any minute, so please, for the sake of dad, please let me do the talking."
"Judas is his name, right?"
"Yeah, Judas."
I gave a long sigh and said,"Kay, kay. It's not like the world matters, or anything."
Sharice stood up, slapped her makeup kit closed and slid it into her purse; her casual dress sliding over her hips to unwrinkle itself as she dropped her purse in the chair next to me. "And he's here, so do your best not to make a scene, seeing how great you are at that."
She tossed me a lenghtened-lash wink and turned away from me. Across the way from our terminal was a Chili's that a bulky guy had just entered. Sharice followed him, her eyes affixed on his every move. It had to be Judas.
"Seeing how great you are at that," I childishly mimicked quietly. I settled into my seat, recrossing my legs, just as a couple suited gentlemen followed Sharice into the restaurant. One of them threw an arm around her and said a couple words into her ear, bringing a jolt out of her.
I shot up as the bulky guy I assumed to be Judas turned around and punched Sharice square in the stomach.
"Heavens no," I muttered as I pulled out my first favorite 9mm.