Runs into the room. Here! Here, I'm here! What's...? Oh, it's just...
...
...
Yeah, I kinda forgot. I had a great idea: witches, missing children, spellcasting - but not the time to write a novel. (Go ahead and guess which picture I considered.) I remembered yesterday and wrote a shorter piece for a different photo instead:
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Crain and Company
The young man put his head in his hands and leaned forward. The cheap IKEA table groaned under his weight. „Bed-sheets?“ he said.
The man opposite him stapled his fingertips onto each other slowly and nodded.
„Bed-sheets,“ the younger one repeated, letting as much doubt creep into his voice as he dared. „These are bed-sheets.“
„Of course. Soft and versatile, sturdy and warm – the best in the country, the best in the world.“
„Yeah, never liked that jingle. It’s not exactly catchy, is it?“As soon as the words had left his mouth, he wanted to move his hands from his forehead a couple of inches downwards. He was never good at keeping the quiet part – well, quiet.
„We had better, I agree,“ the older businessman admitted readily with a smile, though.
„Like:
Sleep in Crain – it feels like the rain!? Or:
Bed-sheets by Crain – never fear a stain – try them today, the new blood-resistant sheets.? Or:
Crain and company – use our sheets and you’ll get the romp for free!? Honestly, Sir, they are all awful.“ Having criticized his potential client’s advertising once, Alex didn’t bother holding back now.
“Well,” Theodore Crain squirmed on the uncomfortable chair that had his massive form wobble over the sides.
“
Crain – smooth as grain. – I’m not even sure what that one is supposed to mean.” Alex sighed, “Sir, with all due respect, your advertising is shit.”
“The advertising might be, but our quality and our fabrics…”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure they’re great but…” Alex sighed, then started from a different angle. He could really use the money. “The fabric is indeed amazing, sir, I agree. But what makes you think that bed-sheets are on the way to becoming the new thing in fashion? I mean, they are bed-sheets?”
“Precedent.” the businessman said simply and with the confidence of someone who was never doubted.
“Precedent?” Alex tried to wrap his head around the idea that somehow a lawsuit was involved in this, but he just couldn’t come up with anything. His mind was obviously wandering in the wrong direction. When the older man didn’t continue, he said: “Could you perhaps be a bit more specific, sir? I really don’t…”
Theodore Crain shook his head with an indulging smile on his thick lips. “The youth of today!” he exclaimed and leaned forward. “Shouldn’t you know what is
in in the fashion market of today? You are a model, after all.”
A model who really needs the money, Alex reminded himself to keep his less flattering thoughts at bay. “I am so sorry, sir, it seems I must have missed a trend. Maybe you can explain just a bit further?”
The indulgent smile widened into an obscene size. “There are countless people walking the streets with sheets over their heads. Why should we leave the market to the competition when our bed-sheets are
the softest and the finest – Crain linen, perfect to spin in!”
“Walking the streets?” Alex shook his head to get the dreadful music out of his head that usually accompanied this abysmal ad on the radio. When his head had spun enough, sudden inspiration struck him. “Perhaps, by any chance, did you see people walking around in bed-sheets in the fall, let’s say, late October, around the 31st, to be precise?” He tried to be gentle.
Mr. Crain shrugged, not bothering to reconcile his memories with any kind of calendar. He saw no reason to, anyway.
When Alex received no answer, he shrugged as well. It was just a job, after all. What did he care if the guy was wasting his money? And he didn’t seem to know what he was doing, so why not add a bit extra? “Well, my going-to rate is 500 an hour for the modeling alone. Holding advertising signs or some-such is an additional charge of 200. If that’s okay with you. Same price for my partner, of course. So, for three hours that’s, all in all, 4200.”
“Done. And you can keep the sheets!” Theodore Crain clapped his hands together like an excited child getting an ice cream in winter. “They’re perfect for you.
Crain’s sheets and pillows – feel like sleeping under willows!”
*
“You sure we should let them go?”
The officers were discussing their fate a few steps away from Steve and Alex but the two could hear them nonetheless. Steve had a sour look on his full red lips while Alex couldn’t stop himself from grinning, especially considering how cute Steve looked when he was in a bad mood (and he knew that they would reconcile later). The more Alex thought about it, the bigger his grin got.
The two young men leaned against the police car in their jeans and shirts, the bed-sheets not very neatly folded at their feet. Alex nudged them with the tips of his sneakers, then he nudged Steve with his elbow. “The sheets are amazingly soft.” he whispered suggestively, “And the old grinch did say that we could keep them…”
Steve, for now fixated on the two cops not too far away, slowly turned towards Alex, an incredulous look in his bright blue eyes. “We nearly get arrested because we run around in the middle of summer covered in bed-sheets. The cops think we’re either perverts or robbers and you… you think about sex?”
“What else am I going to think about?” Alex laughed. “We did nothing wrong!”
“
Come touch our sheets – feel our treats?” Steve said and pointed at the sign that lay discarded to the side. “Fucking hell, Alex,
I think we might be perverts, and I don’t even know what this is supposed to mean!”
Alex shrugged. “It’s
Crain and Company. What did you expect from their signs?”
“Yeah, it’s
Crain and Company – but we were the ones running around like that. Come on, the sign doesn’t even have the Company’s name on it, or explains anything or…”
Arguments rushed through Alex’s mind:
You agreed…- The money is good… - We did nothing illegal… - It’s art… - It will be a fun story to tell later...In the end, Alex just stepped forward and brushed a stray hair from Steve’s cheek. With the hand already in position, he pulled him closer. “You’re hot when you’re angry.”
As he knew he would, Steve melted into the touch. “I’m always hot.” he said and planted a kiss on Alex’s lips.
In that moment, the two officers came back over to them. One of them cleared his throat. “Between a school and a bank is not the best place for weird advertising.” he said and handed them back their IDs. “Get lost.”
“Of course, officer,” Alex said with fluttering eyelashes.
“Alex!”
“What?”
“You know perfectly well
what!”
“Steve…”
“Get the damn sheets, Alex, and…”
“Oh, yeah, the sheets…” If grins could split a face in two, Alex’s would have in that moment. He scooped the sheets from the grass. With his fingers wiggling from the holes intended to look through, he leaned into his partner and whispered: “What do you think we could use these holes for?”
“Alex…” a pained expression was coupled with a furtive look back at the two cops.
As Alex and Steve found out later that day, bed-sheets by Crain and Company were indeed soft and sturdy and quite useful for their originally intended purpose.
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I assume you can figure out which photo I used, even though it's not directly described.
As you can see, forgetting to write leads to silly slice-of-life stories from me.
With a three day extension, maybe I'll come up with a second silly little story for one of the other photos.
