On a ledge overlooking the river, Averie sat.
In his hands were shiny marbles that he had collected from the riverside.
He threw them at the bushes where the crickets made their annoying noises.
"Enjoying the scenery?" an old, unsteady voice reached him from behind.
Averie turned around to find Mr. Cao bringing him a tray full of cookies and beverages.
"Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee," he replied absentmindedly.
The old man poured Averie a cup of coffee and a cup of tea for himself.
He sat down on the ledge and placed the tray between himself and the actor.
There was a kind of serenity to his actions, a compliance with nature.
Watching him, Averie could see how the paintbrushes had worn down his fingers.
He had seen fingers like those before.
Painters, writers, and anyone else who constantly worked with awkward instruments had spidery fingers.
Of course, there were exceptions, but the man in front of him clearly wasn't one of those.
