Here, At the End of the World » Places

         Larry Wesker clutched his pendant.

So this is home now… It is beautiful.

The sunlight reflected off Wesker’s spectacles as he approached the house, trailing behind the young woman in headphones. His feet dragged on the gravel. His eyebrows couldn’t be more furrowed. His eyes were sunken in, as was his expression. A grimace that seemed to be shaped by the moustache that accompanied it. Even his short brown hair was wiry and stiff, albeit combed neatly.

His luggage was minimal, a single leather brown suitcase he brought in with him.

Upon laying his eyes on Avi, Wesker clutched the pendant tighter. It glowed a ghostly blue. Of more interest was the man’s halo above his head. Of course in Wesker’s experience, it was best to keep all the strangeness between him and his wife. This Avi didn’t seem to register its existence, so neither would he.

His voice was just as forlorn as the rest of his appearance.

“Larry Wesker. Hello.” He said, reluctant to take his right hand off the pendant to take a scone. “Thanks.” He had made scones himself, what felt like a long long time ago. It tasted as sweet as the memory, and as fluffy as his recollection of it.

The girl had returned, and for a moment Wesker held eye contact. He quickly put down the scone to clutch his pendant once more, almost wincing.

“I could also do with a glass. Long day. Parched.” He struggled to look back up to the girl, loosening the grip on his pendant. He wasn’t looking forward to having to contend with someone so young. The headphones were typical of today’s youth. On the bright side, he imagined that he wouldn’t have to listen to her music. Hopefully that was all his wife was concerned about too. It could be hard to tell, sometimes.

“And a tour would be exceptional.”