Ginger Lemon Tea

The frayed rope felt almost dusty in my hands. It was an odd feeling, something I had trouble understanding. Foxer didn't seem to care about his make shift leash, and tried to twist and pull at every opportunity. We explored the small city landscape, the tall buildings and narrow alleyways passing us by. I struggled to keep a hold of both my hound and the drink held in my off hand. A tea, ginger and lemon, ordered from the bakery. The same one Scott got the pie from, and the same one I shared a building with. With a loud bark, I was brought back to the world around me. Foxer saw a squirrel and went running.

Today was the first time I tried to train Foxer to pull me around. I've had this long-board for years, but rarely got around to using it. Having a strong dog with far too much energy seemed like a simple solution. While Foxer wasn't the best just yet, he understood well enough. Sure, he was certainly not very fast, I chalked it up to him being young. One day we could speed around the brick sidewalks just as fast as those riding their bikes. Or maybe even faster. The thought brought a grin to my face.

As we rounded the corner of the block, I called out for the mutt to slow down, leading him to stop a bit quicker than I hoped. I very ungracefully fell off my board. My drink fell out of my hand, and I landed with a thump.

A hand reached out to help me up. I looked to see who it belong to, and was met with a familiar face, "hey Scott."

"Hey Eden, you have seem to have fallen," Scott smirked, and I took his hand. It was warm as his smile. I hoped back to my feet, him helping more than I would have liked to admit. Despite his lanky appearance, he clearly had some muscle, even though it may not show.

Conversation continued, and without even knowing it, we had stood there, talking for far too long. He seemed to realize this first, "would you like to join me inside? I can get a treat for your doggy, too."

With those small words, I found myself looking through shelves of books, and games, and anything in between. The small store smelled like worn out books and something else I couldn't quite place. A sweet, but not sugary scent, and with a sudden realization I found what I was thinking of.

"Eden, this is Honey, my younger sibling," I turned around just in time to see who Scoot was referring to. From a door behind the counter came a young gender nonconforming person. Their name fit them well, their bright smile and almost neon gold hair lit up the room. And the sweet, but not sugary smell came in stronger. It was honey.

Foxer also seemed to smell something on her, and from her pocket came a small bone shaped treat. "Is this good boy allowed to have one?" They asked, their voice much more soothing than the brothers. I simply nodded, and watched as he tore it apart, and the crumbs soon disappearing. We all shared a chuckle, and our topic switched to talking about the dog.

Apparently, Honey had always wanted one, but Scott was more of a cat person. Hence why the shop had a cat, Devon. A fat tabby who wondered in one day and never left. Quickly, I found myself relating to Devon. I loved the shop, I loved talking to its owners, and I found myself struggling to leave. But like all good things, it had to come to an end. After a long time of saying goodbye, I left and went home.

Of course, saying I 'went home' is a bit of a misnomer, since my studio was four floors up from their shop. One of the many pros of living in this block were all the people that stayed here.

In my short time residing here, I had already met many of the tenants, and business owners. Like Abby, who owned the whole building, and the bakery, or Tom, who used one of the studios as his therapy office. Of course, both Honey and Scott owned one of the larger apartments, along side their shop. While I didn't quite understand the layout, it seemed simple enough. Many different people shared this one place. I was the newest member.

---

While my shepherds pie reheated, I thought about the microwave that was left. Why did the last owner leave it, and where were they now? It seemed to work fine, other than the popcorn button. which I wouldn't ever think of using. There were a few more abandon objects that I found, but the one that held the most mystery was sitting on the counter, warming my meal.

Meal time meant Foxer was at his loudest. He ate like a starving wolf, his food being scarfed down moments after I give it to him. For awhile I thought he needed more, but no matter how much I gave him, he ate it all. But, I wouldn't complain. The mutt looked so much better than when I first got him. His coat was shiny and sleek, easy to glide my hand over, and nothing like the tangled mess from the first day.

Another reason meal time was loader was I would just rant to him. Talk about the annoyances of being a human, having to make money and do chores. Having to come up with new ideas. and write them down.

'Past me was very very silly, and it seems that my hopes for a new chapter of Angels this week will have to be pushed back another few days. Sorry to everyone who wanted to see what stupid shenanigans the crew gets up to. Good news for Birds fans, the next installment is nearly done. Which isn't as impressive when you think about the fact it will come out right on time...

But, lets put that behind us and focus on the fact I am fully moved into my new house! Yay for me, because I no longer have to write on a phone or laptop, I get to use my good computer. This should mean less headache. Less headache means more writing I can get done. The more writing, the more you can read. Everyone is happy in this win-win situation.

Actually there has been a miss calculation. There is one unhappy dog. Foxer is in need of some love, so I must go and deliver.

Your favorite author who might get mauled by their dog, Eden Blair Thomas.'

Foxer could settle with doing his bossiness on my balcony. I was far too tired to take him for another walk, and I didn't want to change out of my house clothes. So, I sat on a small hammock, and Foxer laid under me.

I'm not sure how long I stayed under the stars, and I might have fallen asleep had my phone not called me back inside.

A call from Smith. A call I wanted to leave be, let it go to voice mail, and spend time with my dog. But another part of me reached out for it, and picked up.

I tried to speak, say anything to her, but I panicked, and hung up. I silently cursed to myself. Moments ago, I wanted nothing more than ignore her, and even though I got it, I couldn't help but find myself upset.

A fool is what I was. Not even a month ago, she was the love of my life, and now simply seeing her phone number brought me to tears. No matter how much I told myself I didn't need her. No matter how many miles I put between us. No matter what I did, I still wanted her by my side.

Maybe at Some Point I can move on. A day will come by where I don't think of waking up beside her, and I don't think of her lips against mine. But tonight was not that time. Tonight I cried into my pillow, and Foxer laid confused beside me.

But I couldn't sleep. Dreams would not come to me, and even after what felt like hours, I still was awake. My tears had dried and stopped flowing, leaving me uncomfortable and resting on a damp pillow.

So I decided to change that. Looking at the clock on my phone, and a quick google search told me the bakery was still open. I told myself, hey screw it, and went down to their first floor in my pajamas.

While it didn't taste very good, I was open to what the lady at the counter said. I sipped my ginger and lemon tea slowly, sulking at the odd flavor. It felt weird to be drinking one this late at night. Even so, I ordered a second one, and then a third, hoping that by some stoke of luck they would really cure the depression I found myself in.

Come closing time, I still felt the same, but slightly better. Placebo was likely, but at this point in the night I didn't find myself caring. I had four ginger and lemons teas, at a dollar each with my discount. A good price for hydration, even if it might not be my preferred way of ever getting it.