Doors To Mirrors (Excerpt 123) A View
With a long slow draw off his cigarette, Aaron stands just outside the doors of the hotel. A few shop owners pass by on their way to work and say hello, but he only responds with a nod and a watchful eye. He can be very intimidating when standing silent. His ultimate goal is to prove to everyone that he is the better man, the person in control, and that he does not have to stoop to anyone’s level, even when it comes to being kind. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he types a message to Nadja; I know you think you’ve won this argument, but you are wrong. I know you are thinking of me and you expect me to chase after you. Well guess what? I am. He knows his words will intimidate Nadja and a sly grin of satisfaction crosses his lips.
Looking up one side of the street and then the other, he decides to walk down the hill to one of the local restaurants for breakfast. To his right he sees the sign for the soap factory as it sways in the breeze from its iron post above the door. He grins and shakes his head as if making a mockery of the business. To disgrace the place Nadja loves so much, he flips the cigarette butt from his fingers and it hits the main entrance door leaving a small bit of ash on the lavender paint next to the handle.
“Poor little Nadja has a tarnished door.” He mumbles as he walks up to the window, holding his hands around his eyes to peek inside. “A soap factory. . . and she calls this a career.” He snickers.
Little does he know how successful this simplistic looking arrangement truly is, for Nadja and her Aunt patented most of the fragrances, packaging supplies, as well as the names of the soaps and lotions. The quaintness of the soap factory itself is something they vowed they would never lose. Part of the charm is the fact that it looks so simple and does not intimidate the consumer. All of this means nothing to a man who has very little heart or passion. Aaron is cold and harsh and he simply cannot understand the softer side of things. To him it is silly and an unnecessary use of resources. Nadja was smart in never fully explaining what her aunt did for a living.
“Ridiculous.” He mumbles as he backs away from the building, that pouty lower lip of his making him look like a little boy about to cry.
Pulling the green scarf tighter around his neck, Aaron dismisses the building as a waste of time and continues walking to the restaurant. With his head held high he enters the eatery and is seated at the booth he requested, the one by the window, the one with a view of the shop.
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