Delayed | b.w.s

4

14:43

We walk through the busy train station, hectic crowds of people in suits and people on phones making it difficult for us to get through. I try and stay as close to Brad as possible in order for me to not lose him, making sure my arm is touching his as we squeeze past people.

"Where to?" Brad asks, still looking forwards so that he doesn't bump into anyone.

"I don't know, this was your idea." I shrug.

We continue walking for a little while before Brad grabs my wrist and drags me towards a small shop that seems to have everything in stock. From perfumes to sandwiches, books to CD's, clothing to alcohol. Brad seems to have his eyes trained on something though, as he pulls me over to a tall rack filled with various postcards.

"Postcards?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

"Yeah." He smiles and slowly rotates the rack, eyeing up the many postcards, all with the word 'Birmingham' written on them. "I collect them."

"You collect postcards?" I ask with confusion. That has to be the strangest hobby I have ever heard of.

"Yeah, I do." He nods, his eyes focussed on the pictures that paint Birmingham in a much more positive light than it actually is. "Wherever I travel, I buy one and take it home. I have a little collection." He smiles and I decide that I like the idea of that.

I pick up one of the pieces of card, examining the picture of one of the nicer pieces of graffiti in the area, before flipping it over in my hand and scanning the blank side.

"You don't have one for Birmingham?" I ask him curiously, lifting my eyes to watch him scan the cards.

"No, I never thought to." He shakes his head and finally picks one out.

It has a very pretty picture of the council house at night time and the city name in big, bold, white letters.

"Nice choice." I softly smile as I place the card in my hands back onto the rack.

"Why don't you get one?" He suggests.

"Uh, I don't think so. Postcards aren't my thing." I laugh slightly.

"What is your thing?" He asks me, watching me curiously now.

"Well, I don't really have one." I reply honestly. "I never thought about it." I shrug.

"Why don't you try it?" He suggests, causing me to raise my eyebrow at him. "You never know, a year from now, you might thank me." He tilts his head with a small smirk.

"Fine." I huff. "It's a good job they're cheap, I spent all my money on coffee." I joke.

Brad laughs as I pick out the postcard that I previously held and we both make our way around the shop filled with everything. I walk over to the small selection of books but easily become unimpressed as I notice they're all badly written romance novels with the occasional children's book.

"Do you read a lot?" Brad asks from beside me, his eyes watching me as I scan the books.

"I do." I nod slowly and pick up a book that catches my eye with its bright red cover and an outline of a single rose on it. "Mainly classics."

"Who's your favourite author?" He asks me as I quickly scan the blurb and scrunch my nose up at the horribly written paragraph.

"That's a tough one." I bite my lip whilst putting the book back on the shelf and turning to face Brad. "Probably Ernest Hemingway."

We walk over to another rack holding a mixture of overly British hats and cardboard masks of celebrities faces.

"Why is he your favourite?" He asks me, picking up a top heavy hat with a British flag on it and placing it on his head with a grin.