The Librarian

I spent a good portion of the day wandering the streets, admiring the scenery and window shopping as I went. Though the night seemed to be close, I ignored the setting sun and turned into Central Park and sat down on a hard wooden bench.

"It's getting a little late for young ladies like you, isn't it?" A raspy voice asked from my left. I swiveled around to see an unkempt, dirty and toothless homeless man laden with an array of fur coats and a shopping cart full of...well, junk.

"Um, not really." I stared at him as his shadow fell over mine. He flashed a smile and held out a gloved hand. "You can call me Fred."

"Hi...Fred..." I shook his hand uncertainly, gesturing to his other hand. "Nice iPod."

"Thanks." He lisped. He furrowed his brow for a moment before holding a hand up in the air. "Dreams like a podcast...Downloading truth in my ears...They tell me cool stuff."

I wrinkled my nose. "That was a terrible excuse for a haiku."

He shrugged.

I paused. "Wait a second..."

He lifted an eyebrow, watching me. His eyes glinted gold, like the sun, and my memories came rushing back to me. "APOLLO!"

He clapped a dirty hand over my mouth. "SHHH! I'm incognito!"

"Mmmmphh!" I complained. He let me go and I gasped for clean air (or as clean as you could get in NYC) "What are you doing here?"

He pursed his lips. "I saw you talking to her."

"Her."

"That short lady who walks around with the mint perfume on."

"Oh. M."

He glanced at me, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of a handsome young man in his late teens, sandy hair, a bright cocky smile, and outdoorsy good looks. "Don't trust her."

"Why not?" I folded my arms, shivering. Apollo touched my arm and heat flooded into my body.

"I can't tell you why. Just please, don't trust her."

"Seriously?"

He lifted a slender finger to his mouth and stood up, walking backwards slowly. "Call if you need me."

"Wai-." Too late. Apollo disappeared into the night, and I was left alone with only remnants of the heat he had given me.

Notes