Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ The Journal of One, Leon Orcot ❯ May 28, 1999 ( Chapter 13 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: CrossedScarsX 
Anime/Manga: Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Mystery / Psychological / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.11.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 962 | Visits: 468 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Mystery / Psychological / Angst | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 08.11.2011 | Pages: 1 | Words: 962 | Visits: 468 | Status: Completed
May 28, 1999
I'm in Rotterdam. Been here a few days. I've only found one piece of information that might be helpful: I found out a guy over on West-Kruiskade (The main part of their Chinatown, I guess. It's not as “Chinese” looking as a lot of the other Chinatowns I've been in.) who told me that a friend of his had bought a weird-looking animal recently...but I found the shop that sold it...it was a pretty standard and clinical chain shop. Nothing like D's.
D's pet shop was always anything BUT clinical. All those cushy couches and carpeting and drapes and fine china. I mean really! Who the fuck keeps a pet shop like that? Hell, how did he ever even keep that place clean? It was immaculate. I never so much as saw a single dog hair on the sofa. And he never had any help, it was always just D. I suppose. Maybe the animals helped clean up after themselves? I mean...if they could do that whole, turning human...thing? I can't believe I just wrote that down...Crap! This is in pen too, so I can't erase it either. And I'm too lazy to rewrite all that again. Not to mention I need to stop going through so much paper. It's wasteful. I mean, I'd have to buy a new notebook once I run out of paper. It's not like I'm becoming some sort of tree hugger, or anything.
I hope no one ever reads this thing. They'll lock me up, no question.
Anyway, I did ask the shopkeeper if she'd ever heard of Count D's pet shop, and showed her the picture. Her English wasn't very good, but the conversation definitely indicated 'no'. It was disappointing, to say the least.
I'm sitting in Het Park as I write this. It's a nice place, lots of winding paths that go through gardens and pass by some really nice looking It cloudy, and I think it might rain soon. It's been pretty moist around here lately. But I think it's like that a lot around here. There is a river/marina winding all through this area, which is good. I think it's time for me to move on from this country. I should be able to find some day work at the docks, like I wrote before.
I haven't gotten too lucky finding work yet. Mostly because people pick you in the morning, and honestly there are a LOT of places to check here for work, but if I don't find those places early enough, I lose that spot to someone else. But tomorrow shouldn't be so bad. I was too late for a spot today, so at least I know where to find a prime spot to camp out and be the first person there in the morning.
I'll end up in Harwich, when I cross. I'll probably work a bit more after I get there. Then I'll start making my way towards London...It's a bit of a stretch, but nothing I can't handle. I'll probably look up Jimmy Collins. I worked with him for a while last year. He's a good guy. One of those guys that everybody likes, both on and off the job. A real joker. He'll shout things like, “C,mon Leon, bloody little yank! Stop wanking and move this box! My gran could lift this quicker!” Hah. It was always in good fun. He'd take you out for a drink, just for the sake of having a good time. And man, can he drink. I used to think that I could hold my liquor, but, damn these European guys, I don't know where they put it. Jimmy used to say I wasn't a bad drinker..for an American. Ass. It'll be nice to see him again. I'll definitely look him up. Hopefully, he hasn't drunk himself into the gutter or gotten into some other trouble. He could sometimes get kinda rowdy after a few stiff drinks, and I had step in and stop him from doing anything stupid at least twice.
Off topic: I'm starting to get a little freaked out right now. I swear there has been a squirrel looking at me for the past ten minutes. I keep looking up from my writing. Oh God, I think it's getting closer when I look away. Yeah. It's definitely getting closer. What, does it think I have food or something? Creepy. After D, everything involving animals just makes me paranoid. Seriously, go away!
I think I'm losing it. I just shouted at it to leave me the fuck alone, and tell D that I'm going to find him and to stop sending little critter spies because I'm not quitting. I was loud. I saw a young mother grab her little girl's hand and turn down another path...
...it's STILL looking at me.
One minute. Two minutes.
Three m—ok it's going. Jesus.
I think I'm going to find another place to sit. I'll spend some time listening to my Chinese tapes, seeing as there isn't much else for me to do. And I can keep my eyes on the squirrels.
~Leon
I'm in Rotterdam. Been here a few days. I've only found one piece of information that might be helpful: I found out a guy over on West-Kruiskade (The main part of their Chinatown, I guess. It's not as “Chinese” looking as a lot of the other Chinatowns I've been in.) who told me that a friend of his had bought a weird-looking animal recently...but I found the shop that sold it...it was a pretty standard and clinical chain shop. Nothing like D's.
D's pet shop was always anything BUT clinical. All those cushy couches and carpeting and drapes and fine china. I mean really! Who the fuck keeps a pet shop like that? Hell, how did he ever even keep that place clean? It was immaculate. I never so much as saw a single dog hair on the sofa. And he never had any help, it was always just D. I suppose. Maybe the animals helped clean up after themselves? I mean...if they could do that whole, turning human...thing? I can't believe I just wrote that down...Crap! This is in pen too, so I can't erase it either. And I'm too lazy to rewrite all that again. Not to mention I need to stop going through so much paper. It's wasteful. I mean, I'd have to buy a new notebook once I run out of paper. It's not like I'm becoming some sort of tree hugger, or anything.
I hope no one ever reads this thing. They'll lock me up, no question.
Anyway, I did ask the shopkeeper if she'd ever heard of Count D's pet shop, and showed her the picture. Her English wasn't very good, but the conversation definitely indicated 'no'. It was disappointing, to say the least.
I'm sitting in Het Park as I write this. It's a nice place, lots of winding paths that go through gardens and pass by some really nice looking It cloudy, and I think it might rain soon. It's been pretty moist around here lately. But I think it's like that a lot around here. There is a river/marina winding all through this area, which is good. I think it's time for me to move on from this country. I should be able to find some day work at the docks, like I wrote before.
I haven't gotten too lucky finding work yet. Mostly because people pick you in the morning, and honestly there are a LOT of places to check here for work, but if I don't find those places early enough, I lose that spot to someone else. But tomorrow shouldn't be so bad. I was too late for a spot today, so at least I know where to find a prime spot to camp out and be the first person there in the morning.
I'll end up in Harwich, when I cross. I'll probably work a bit more after I get there. Then I'll start making my way towards London...It's a bit of a stretch, but nothing I can't handle. I'll probably look up Jimmy Collins. I worked with him for a while last year. He's a good guy. One of those guys that everybody likes, both on and off the job. A real joker. He'll shout things like, “C,mon Leon, bloody little yank! Stop wanking and move this box! My gran could lift this quicker!” Hah. It was always in good fun. He'd take you out for a drink, just for the sake of having a good time. And man, can he drink. I used to think that I could hold my liquor, but, damn these European guys, I don't know where they put it. Jimmy used to say I wasn't a bad drinker..for an American. Ass. It'll be nice to see him again. I'll definitely look him up. Hopefully, he hasn't drunk himself into the gutter or gotten into some other trouble. He could sometimes get kinda rowdy after a few stiff drinks, and I had step in and stop him from doing anything stupid at least twice.
Off topic: I'm starting to get a little freaked out right now. I swear there has been a squirrel looking at me for the past ten minutes. I keep looking up from my writing. Oh God, I think it's getting closer when I look away. Yeah. It's definitely getting closer. What, does it think I have food or something? Creepy. After D, everything involving animals just makes me paranoid. Seriously, go away!
I think I'm losing it. I just shouted at it to leave me the fuck alone, and tell D that I'm going to find him and to stop sending little critter spies because I'm not quitting. I was loud. I saw a young mother grab her little girl's hand and turn down another path...
...it's STILL looking at me.
One minute. Two minutes.
Three m—ok it's going. Jesus.
I think I'm going to find another place to sit. I'll spend some time listening to my Chinese tapes, seeing as there isn't much else for me to do. And I can keep my eyes on the squirrels.
~Leon