A man of middling height and average weight pulled open the glass-front door, stepped inside, and sighed. Knick-knacks, baubles, candles, greeting cards, birthday cards, retirement cards, cards of condolence, potpourri, and stuffed animals greeted him with an overwhelming amount of cute. He walked through the aisles of the store, searching for it, never finding it. He sighed again and left, the smell of cinnamon wafting out the door in front of him. Another store, same result. For days the man searched, traversing aisle after aisle of everything except it, the one perfect it.
He drove aimlessly, trying to find it. Hoping to stumble upon it the way he had stumbled upon her. No road took him to it and he began to become increasingly more discouraged. Mom-and-Pop shops didn’t have it, and neither did the big box stores. Why was it so hard to find the one perfect it, the one thing that would fill the void in his life? Soon after he was still wandering the aisles of yet another store when it finally dawned on him. He smiled to himself as he pivoted sharply and left the store. He hummed as he drove, failing to contain the grin that crossed his face.
Hours later, the man boarded an airplane bound for New York City. He was still grinning as the plane left the terminal, and he grinned even wider as it touched down at JFK. He had packed no luggage, deciding ahead of time to simply buy whatever he needed when he arrived in New York, a full country’s-length away from the empire he was building.
The view from above.
He hailed a taxi, telling the driver to take him to Avenue of the Americas, where the building he sought was located. Sometime later, the man paid his fare and exited the cab, stopping to smile at his prey: The VHL Head Offices.
The Man stops to share some knowledge with familiar faces.
He walked inside and told the desk guard his name and business and was directed to the row of elevators down the hall. Taking the lift to the 32nd floor, the man exited and told the receptionist who greeted him his name and intentions. She smiled prettily in response and asked him to wait for just a moment. He sat in the comfortable chair, still humming happily. A short minute later, he was greeted by a slightly older man who introduced himself simply as Victor. “My receptionist told me that you were here and I have to admit I didn’t believe her,” Victor said as he shook the man’s hand. “What can I do for you?”
The two men talked for some time, and when they finally parted ways, the man named Victor called his receptionist into his office. “Please send out a press report,” Victor announced with a smile. “Tell them that Christoph Klose has decided to play in the VHL.”
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