Snippet #1837166

Unlike most people, Treston also eats the orange peel biting through to the sweet meat inside.
A trail of seed follow behind him as he makes his way to visit the garment district.
His stride shallow, and his shoulders hang low, as his eyes seldom meet those passing by.
Inside one building Treston checks clothes, nearly unaware he is still falling into the same old pattern.
The fancy black clothing he has draped over his arm calls to him, but as he looks at them he slowly remembers just why he is here.... to change. Change his look, change his life, change the course fate has set before him.
Lifting his head he begins to look around at those walking outside. Looking at the cut and color of the mens apparel. His mind thinks about how the different groups and classes of people are similiar and different. Looks at the store clerks, how their clothes, while a little fancier then most people, are not so much so as to make their patrons feel uncomfortable. An old adage clothes make the man or can reflect things about someone, without knowing anything about them.
It doesn't take Treston long to realize he needs to decide what he want to say to others. Farmer, scout, rich, poor, local, foreign, do I dress for a profession, trade, what?