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Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Best Served Cold: Chapter One: The HItchhiker

This is my third revision of the first chapter of Best Served Cold (formerly Leo)



On a rainy morning in October, at seven thirty six in the morning, a lone car thundered down a wet highway. The car was a light grey, and it had scratches and dents covering the exterior. Sitting in the front, driving, was a twenty-six year old man named Noah Lawrence. Noah was about six feet tall, around one-hundred pounds, had blue eyes, short blond hair, the stereotypical American look. He had been born on April second in Manhattan, NY. He was a bachelor, he had never been married and he had no children.. He had moved to Maine for a job opportunity which never panned out. He had almost went back to New York, but stayed because he liked the peaceful, rural atmosphere in Maine, it was silent compared to the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. He was currently unemployed, right now he was driving to Machias for a job interview at the Bangor Savings Bank there. Unfortunately, he would never arrive at Number One Center St. He was speeding down Interstate 1, just passing a line of about twenty cherry red parked tractors when he spotted the hitchhiker. He pulled over and opened the passenger door. “Where you going?” shouted Noah, making himself heard over the pounding of the rain.
“Machias!” yelled the hitchhiker, in a voice much too gravelly and old for his face.
“Hop in” said Noah. The man walked up to the car and climbed in the passenger seat. And then they were off, speeding down the Interstate, away into the grey morning fog.
“Thanks,” said the man. His voice, although quieter now, still had the same gravelly tone as before, “What’s your name?”
“Noah,” said Noah, “Noah Lawrence,”
“I’m Leo, short for Leonardo,” said the man, “Leonardo Cole,” he paused, “Where you headed? Are you going to Machias, or farther?”
“Just Machias,” said Noah, “Applying for a job,”
“Where?”
“Bangor Savings Bank,”
“Isn’t that in Bangor?”
“Naw, they got a bunch of branches all across the state. It’s just based in Bangor,”
“Oh,” Leo sat in silence staring out the windshield into the grey fog for a couple minutes, “I should go try to get a loan, I got a million-dollar idea,”
“Oh?”
“You ever heard of eight minute abs? Well, what about seven minute abs?” Leo laughed, a short, harsh bark that filled the car. The laugh was infectious, and the quote had been pretty funny. Soon enough, both of them were laughing so hard they were in tears.

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