daily nightly // torksmith

chapter 1

This place seems to be so cold and lonely.

Michael thought, walking slowly.

Even homeless dogs don't care about me.

Everything was dark and dirty. Small stores with old, destroyed signboards, empty cafes, cheap restaurants, bus stations. First day in a new city and Mike almost lost all his dreams about being a famous country musician. Awesome.

He was standing outside the shop near the corner of the street. Letters above window formed into a simple phrase: Simon's Bakery. He opened  the door and slipped in, looking around. Few people were talking with shopkeepers, other already bought some bread and came out of shop. So many people for so late hour.

"Hello Mister, how can I help you?"

Mike heard a shy voice and turned to face the salesman. He didn't expect he will see a young man. Or a kid. Yeah, definitely a kid. Grow up man doesn't look like this.

"Um, good evening. Um... what can you recommend?"

The kid smiled even brighter than he was before, showing his dimples.

"We have fresh bagels, croissants and buns if you like sweeties. If not, maybe a white or granary bread? Or just a roll?"

Mike was staring at the shelf with kinds of different eats. All of them looked tasty. Maybe because he hasn't eaten in two days.

"I'll have a..." he noticed a price and sighed heavily "a bread with oats"

"Of course!" the kid almost ran to the shelf and stood at his toes to reach the product, and then returning to his customer.

"You're new here?" he asked, packing the meal to the brown bag.

"Yeah" Mike nodded "how did you know, huh?"

"I've never seen your face before. And... Oh, you play guitar?" he pointed at the guitarcase Mike has got behind him.

"Um, yes?"

"What do you play? Are you famous?" the kid was so close to jumping from excitement, his not-too-short, sandy hair bouncing rhythmically.

"No, not famous"

"So what are you doing here?"

"I'm havin' a gig in a pub tonight. I hope people will like my music"

"What music?"

"Mostly old country, y'now." Mike searched for some bills in his pocket and landed it on the counter. He had enough money for bread he's bought and a little bit for whatever he's gonna do later. Then he saw this big, brown eyes, filled with admiration and he handed to the pocket for some more coins.

"Here, have a nice evenin', kid."

Mike put rest of his money in the table. If people won't like his music he will be starving for next few days. 
Young man blinked at him with disbelief, then at the money, then at Mike again.

"For me, really?"

"Yup"

"Oh thank you! Thank you, mister!"

"No prob." Mike smiled at the sight of this happy boy. He came out the store, heading to the right direction.
The lights at the street was brighter than before. Homeless dogs were more friendly. Sky wasn't all black, Mike could see some stars there. Everything was better.

Cute kid, he realised, looking back at the bakery and smiling again.
Maybe San Diego is not that bad?