#cerulephony

The Duck walked up to the questioning ask and said to the man, giving the ask. "...."

BOM BOM BOM.

The Duck stared at the man, his composure breaking at his statements. Looking up to the sky with his dark eyes, who ever heard of such a thing.. Looking back at the man once more. The duck said, "I'll pass!" Then he waddled away.. WADDLE WADDLE.

Up until Seri stops by the store mid-afternoon, her Saturday unwinds like thread from a spool, slow and awfully deliberate in the hands of a calm tailor. It's a day of errands, of idle peace, with a book and plans for a new recipe awaiting her return in the evening post-shopping; it's a day of sunbeams plying across the pale arcs of her limbs when she goes for a walk in the park after breakfast, a day of satisfaction as she drops by the dojo just around teatime to check up on a class of youths she's grown fond of.

(Ever since passing them onto another, more experienced instructor for higher level training, she hasn't heard much from them...but on the whole she's used to receiving more comments on being cool - or maybe that was cold - than being kind.)

Yes, up until the doors of the convenience store pull apart for her paces, Seri comes against no obstacle bar her mundane plans for the day or evening (a dinner rich in red bean is the best kind of meal - she might even feel a little excited). In fact, even as she browses, for the most part, she ticks off the items on her mental grocery list without ceremony. Scallions, tofu, beansprouts, chard, so on and so forth - even another tin of tea, the looseleaf kind she's taken a liking to recently because of the way the flavor slides so contentedly across her tongue. Everything disappears into her basket with a shuffling noise, signalling the stop and start of click clack, click clack through the maze of shelves.

But then, just as those familiar heeled paces pause - and pause - and pause for a little while longer -

"Excuse me," Seri says, striking through the store's silent lull with the mild peal of her questioning, polite tone.

"It seems you need some time to restock...may I ask whether you still have any more red bean paste of this brand in storage?"

Seri gestures toward the vertical freezer with a solemn expression lining her features, shoulders relaxed but not without poise. Sure enough, the anko shelf, flanked by white bean and black, is gleamingly devoid of its particular trove of treasure - a travesty if Seri has ever witnessed one.