There’s a spring in her step as she maneuvers around the unpacked boxes clogging the hallway. Yunyun and Kiwi scuttle past her towards their drinking bowl, which Samantha is quick to retrieve in order to freshen its contents. As they lap away, she releases them from their harnesses and sets the gear on the countertop for their afternoon walk. Her schedule is full today, and without wasting a beat, the blood thief turns on her heel and makes for the shower. Within the hour she’s due the station cafe, where she’s got a meeting that could set her up nicely for the remainder for the month. As much as she enjoys the varied nature of her day job, there is a welcome respite from the occasional ‘big’ project. On the phone, Amalea sounded keen on discussing multiple projects within the same sphere, and Samantha is eager to find out what, exactly, that’ll entail.
Within half an hour, the graphic artist is walking out the door. Over her shoulder hangs an oversized canvas bag that’s seen better days, but which carries everything she ever needs (wallet, reading glasses, sunglasses, sketch book, notebook, business cards, second sketchbook, and scattered mostly at the bottom: copic markers, all grades of graphite pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners, sticks of gum, caramels, bobby pins by the dozen), which she is quick to rummage through upon finding a table at the cafe.
Deciding not to wait for her potential client to arrive, Samantha orders a large latte in hopes the caffeine will kick in sooner than later. Along with most of her packed belongings are the blender and juicer, and her mornings are tough without her post-workout smoothie. Unless the meeting brings on a change of plans, the blood thief has set aside her afternoon to get all her **** sorted. That, and work on tomorrow’s comic. As she waits for Amalea to arrive, still tucked in the bright orange scarf she told her she’d be wearing for identification sake, Samantha begins to sketch said comic, invigorated by the myriad of things happening around her.
Within half an hour, the graphic artist is walking out the door. Over her shoulder hangs an oversized canvas bag that’s seen better days, but which carries everything she ever needs (wallet, reading glasses, sunglasses, sketch book, notebook, business cards, second sketchbook, and scattered mostly at the bottom: copic markers, all grades of graphite pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners, sticks of gum, caramels, bobby pins by the dozen), which she is quick to rummage through upon finding a table at the cafe.
Deciding not to wait for her potential client to arrive, Samantha orders a large latte in hopes the caffeine will kick in sooner than later. Along with most of her packed belongings are the blender and juicer, and her mornings are tough without her post-workout smoothie. Unless the meeting brings on a change of plans, the blood thief has set aside her afternoon to get all her **** sorted. That, and work on tomorrow’s comic. As she waits for Amalea to arrive, still tucked in the bright orange scarf she told her she’d be wearing for identification sake, Samantha begins to sketch said comic, invigorated by the myriad of things happening around her.
