Post 5

Otis opened the blinds. His head throbbed. Those noises made him wonder. He got dressed. Otis got a quick glass of water to clear his throat and walked out the door. He was headed to Casa D'Waffles. For some reason he was in the mood for waffles. He had an unusual spring in his step and had a feeling it was going to be a good day. It had snowed the night before and it was cold and slippery on the sidewalks. He walked down the street with his hands in his pockets. The restaurant was unusually crowded for December 22nd. He sat down alone and ordered two Casa Waffles. As Otis ate his waffles he noticed a man in the corner who kept looking over at him. The man avoided eye contact and left shortly after Otis noticed him. Otis thought nothing of it. He finished his meal, read the newspaper for a little bit and left.

A shot rang out. It came from behind Otis. It zipped by his head. He ran down a near by alley and hid behind a large trashcan. The man with the gun strolled down the alley. "I can't believe I found you here, Gerard. Do you know how much Don Moretti will pay me when I tell him that I found and killed the infamous Gerardo Cappelli.  I know you're here, Gerard. I know this is a dead end. Step out of your hiding place. I just want to talk. This reminds me of the time..." Otis jumped out as the man was in the middle of his monologue and grabbed his gun. They struggled for possession of the gun but Otis easily tore it from the man's hands. "Forget you saw me and I won't kill you." Otis whispered. He realized that there was some hysteria over the gun shot coming from the outside world, but the alley was secluded and hidden. No one had noticed them, yet. "I'm not leaving without the satisfaction of killing you!" yelled the man. Frenzied he rushed Otis. Otis pulled the trigger and in a moment the man landed on the ground with a pool of blood surrounding him. Otis got to work. He took the contents from the man's pockets, making sure not to get finger prints on his clothes or skin. He found a cell phone, a wallet, a pack of chewing gum, and a picture of himself. He picked up a newspaper and covered his hands with it as he dumped the body into the large trashcan. He wiped up the blood on the ground with the newspaper and threw it with the body. He put the gun in his leather jacket pocket and walked out of the alley slowly and inconspicuously and headed home. He didn't notice anyone and no one noticed him.

Post 4

Otis opened the door to his apartment. It looked the same as it had when he arrived, other than a suitcase in the corner and the tan envelope on the coffe table. It was late, and Otis' feet ached. He walked all around town looking for some form a job. He found no success and felt like tomorrow would be better. It was late and he needed some sleep, even though it never comes easy for him. He picked up the envelope that sat on his coffee table and carried it to his bedroom. After laying down and pulling the covers over him, Otis opened the envelope. He pulled from inside two solid gold rings and a letter. On each of the rings were initials. They read G.C. and J.C. He smiled and placed the rings on his dresser. He then turned his attention to the letter. He slowly read the letter over and over again.
         
Dear Gerardo Cappelli,
Your work has been appreciated. We apologize for the recent unfortunate events. We are relocating you to the town, ********. Your new name is Otis Baumer. You moved to town from Washington D.C. Be sure to lay low and keep to yourself. We will be checking up on you every 2 weeks. Move on and you will be fine.
                                        Sincerely,
                                        John T. Harris
                                        President of the Witness Protection Program

Otis set the envelope and letter on the dresser and turned off the light. He began to drift off when he heard some loud noises coming from outside his window. Expecting it to be the strange old man again he got up. There was no one outside. Otis waited and then heard the noises again. They were coming from the abandoned building next door. It sounds like banging metal and gave him a headache. Otis got back in bed and waited for sleep to come. The noise stopped after a few hours. When it did Otis finally found some sleep.

Post 3

Otis hardly slept on his third day in the Castle Apartments. Otis knew this as he slowly crawled from his bed. He looked at his clock and saw the time was 6:30. He tried to think of his encounter with the old homeless man, as he had most of the night. Realizing he was too tired to think, Otis did what most Americans would do in his situation. Headed for the nearest coffee shop.
 Upon arriving, Otis noticed a small crowd hovering outside the small shop. He approached the murmuring crowd, no larger than 10 people and asked a skinny young man "What's with the hold up?"
"I guess the coffee shop owner forgot to set his alarm this morning," the man replied. The man began to complain some more about not being on time, when Otis realized he did not want to talk anymore. He slowly nodded his head and moved away from the annoying fellow. Otis was too tired to engage this morning and he began to think about getting some sleeping pills when another person interrupted his thought. "Hello, Mister."It was a small girl with a camera hung around her neck. Otis looked up and blurted out "they aren't here yet", referring to the coffee shop dilema. She smiled. "Oh, I know. I'm just taking a few pictures before I go to school. Do you mind?" Otis nodded and she snapped a picture. "Have you seen the old homeless man walking around the street?" asked Otis, curious if he was dreaming about yesterday's incident. "Oh, yes I did! He was an interesting man. He truly said some random things though." As she said this the worker to the coffee shop pulled in and the small crowd clapped and cheered.
"Well, I guess I will see you around..."
"Abigail."

Post 2

Sleep never came for Otis on his first night in the Castle Apartments. He lay for most of the night, wishing sleep would knock him out. At 5:17 he glanced at his clock, leaned to upright position, and slithered out from under the thin sheets. In his white tank top and white boxers he moved to the small kitchen and got himself a glass of water from the sink. Otis sat down at his small coffee table that sat in the corner of the kitchen next to an opened window. He glanced out at the dark sky and the dimly lit street. Nothing stirred in the streets. Uninterested Otis began to drift off. As soon as his he began to close his eyes he heard the sound of a bottle being thrown against a wall. Otis raised himself off the table and moved to the window. He saw a figure stumbling down the sidewalk and singing. It took Otis a second to recognize the song as Simple Twist of Fate by Bob Dylan. "Good Song", Otis said to himself as he closed the window and stumbled back to bed with his early childhood on his mind.
When the sun came up, Otis found himself staring at the closed window. He was curious about the obviously drunken man. After dressing himself in some jeans and his old brown leather jacket, he headed out the door to the nearby clinic. On his way out he noted his room number "205" so that he would not forget. Otis walked into the clinic, ignored a cheerful customer trying to start a conversation, and walked out with his sleeping pills in hand. "Successful trip, without too many distractions", he thought as he heard a familiar sound. "Well I'll be damned", He said aloud as Simple Twist of Fate caught his attention for the second time in one day. He moved to the side of the building where the man sat singing the tune. "Great song", Otis said, which stopped the man from continuing his song. The man had white hair under an old ski cap and a white scruffy beard to go along with it. The old man wore old baggy clothes and held a small cup in his hand that had a coin or two in it. The man was obviously blind and made no indication that he knew Otis was there.
"Great Song, I said."
The old man gave no reply. "He must be blind and deaf", thought Otis, but as if the old man had heard him, he shook his cup, rattling around the few coins that lay inside. Otis reached into his pocket and pulled out 32 cents that he had left over from the pharmacy.
"Will you sing to me?" Otis asked jokingly.
No reply, again. Otis dumped the change in the bowl and began to back away when the old man spoke.
"What will come will come. Even if I shroud it all in silence", the old man said in a grizzly deep voice. Otis, shocked, turned and walked away, thinking the old man as a waste of time, but as he got to his apartment room and bed, he could not help but think about the old man and the words he had spoken. Exhausted, he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Post 1

         The day started with the soft hum of an old charter bus at the end of it's long career. The bus, capable of 56 passenger, held 12 passengers who each sat alone. The silence on the bus helped each passenger sleep soundly, until the early morning sun shone threw the old dusty windows and woke a man in a old brown leather coat that clearly had numerous years of wear on it. Sticking out of his jacket pocket was a large yellow envelope, which was obviously stuffed to capacity and had a coffee stain near the right upper corner. The man's graying brown hair showed hints that he was around the age of 40 but he had a strong look of youth in the way he carried himself. He awoke with a jerk of the bus, sat up and stretched his arms out. He looked down the aisle at the emotionless driver staring at the one lane road. The man in the brown leather jacket looked out the window for some sign of location. Down the road a lone sign stated "______ 10 miles" appeared in front of the rows of fields of an unknown crop. He yawned and looked at his watch again. 7:13. Time was moving slow. He heard the woman across the aisle from him speak a word in her sleep and he chuckled to himself. The woman turned away from him in her sleep and the man focused back on the road.
         A moment passed and the man found himself staring at the slowly advancing skyline of a small town. He adjusted himself in his leather jacket and continued to focus on the view, beginning to make out the shape of a building much larger than the others surrounding it. Unconsciously holding his left jacket pocket, he remembered the envelope and slowly pulled it out. Upon opening the envelope, he pulled out a folded letter. He began reading the heading when the bus driver pulled into a Bus Stop with a big 17 on the sign. The man slowly got his small plaid suitcase from the overhead compartment and shuffled off the bus. The other passengers looked on as he moved toward the front. The man nodded his head at the driver and the driver nodded back. The bus remained silent.
         The heat blasted the man as soon as he stepped off the bus. The early morning sun beat down on the back of his neck, causing him to wince. Immediately, the man pointed his nose to the sky and sniffed the air. A smell floated around him, teasing him as he tried to place what it was. He gave up, but the familiarity of the smell wafted in his mind for the rest of the afternoon. He stood and searched the deserted streets for some sign of direction. The streets were eerily quiet and there was no movement in all directions. He saw at the end of the street was a green street sign. He moved closer, unable to see from his distance. "H and Popular," he muttered to himself. He looked into the intersection and down both ways of Popular. He saw what looked to be an old abandoned factory across the intersection, which sparked some curiosity in him. The man had not felt like that in years and noted to himself about this rekindled emotion. He crossed the street and walked toward what he was looking for. The building he saw from a distance stood before him, tall, clean, and handsome. He felt excitement, another feeling that had been forgotten, as he walked up to the base of the building. His new home awaited. His new life awaited. Otis Baumer entered the Castle Apartments.