The concept wandered a tad as I was writing this; it didn't end up quite where I'd expected, and likely doesn't fit the prompt as well as it did at start.
"At the Crossroads"
L Czhorat Suskin
I only noticed them because it as raining, though I must have seen them many times before.
Two young men with the lean angular faces young men have, dressed in heavy cotton button-down shirts and faded work-jeans. It was the kind of misty late-fall day that sends the office-workers scurrying to their cubicle farms, delivery drivers huddled in their trucks, IT guys hiding in their secret lairs.
Not these guys. They sat on a pair of the cheerfully painted Times Square street chairs, elbows resting on a sodden metal table. This being New York, nobody much noticed. Those with umbrellas used umbrellas, those without stuck to the part of the sidewalk beneath the metal scaffolding that always seems to linger in this part of town, the frame of a city constantly rebuilding itself.
I noticed. I always notice things. And they noticed me noticing, at least the one with the sandy hair in the dark blue shirt (his dark-haired friend had his back to me.). Our eyes met for just a moment. His pupils were slittled, not vertically like a cat's but horizontally like a goats. Then he winked at me and his eyes were just eyes and a flurry of umbrella-bearers crossed between us and he and his friend were gone.
I wandered by the table and saw it there: a business card.
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Detailed Elementary Vital Integrated Logistics.
Solutions to all your problems.
Deal With Us.
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I tucked the card into my breast pocket. It hung heavily there, a square of warmth against the chill wind. I walked out of the square, away from the crossroads, knowing that I'd call.
What I didn't know - yet - is what I'd ask for.
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I can't say I'm altogether satisfied with the above. The name on the business card was a little too clumsy, and I could probably find something better given the time and effort. Perhaps tomorrow's prompt will speak more clearly to me.
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