For an perfect, ordinary man who comes from Highgate. And who associates with the gravedigger.

Inspired by a convenience store keeper near me, he is a wonderful man, always greets me cheerfully whenever he sees me. However, I highly assure you that he is not... As strange as Thomas Finch below.

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Thomas Justinius Finch is a very perfect, ordinary man. He may be a bit on the plump side, but it was not a bad plumpness. On the contrary, oh no, Thomas has nice round rosy cheeks, pale watery-green eyes and a shock of brown hair. In fact, people think he is that type of Santa-Clausy person, if he was a mite older, and had blue eyes and white hair and a shocking white beard to accompany his features.

Thomas is a bachelor; he keeps his house neat and tidy, everything in place and placed in wonderful, beautiful arrangements around his cosy, little flat. His furniture was soft and warm, the cushions plumped up and the sofa, ah, when you sit on it, you pretty much drown in it. The fridge door opens smoothly, and it is as brand-new as the day it was bought. Chocolates, sweets and assorted pastries peer out invitingly, and just when you think this man is no-more than a nasty glutton, you notice a bottle of vitamin and a book entitled Healthy Living lying open beside it.

Thomas runs those type of small stores that seem to stock everything you want and everything you don't need, but however, still have that compulsion to buy. Beer and assorted alcohol sat side by side along with bottles of milk and orange juice, porn magazines were placed discreetly behind Thomas' counter while you can practically get any household appliance you want from Thomas' store. There is gift paper to buy, and small plush toys to wrap up, and Thomas would always do it for you with a pleasant smile which shows off his slightly-yellowish teeth.

And it is at this moments, the ladies and women and spinsters and grandmas, they will tutter slightly and tap Thomas' plump, smooth hand with an admonishing finger which is nearly always naked, bared to the elements. And they will purr, say, snap, stutter, "Thomas darling, you work too hard for such a nice young man, should not you be settling down soon?" To these ladies and women and spinsters and grandmas, Thomas will smile and utter pleasantly, never never harshly, "I feel myself not being able to settle down yet, but rest assured, ma'am, I will look for you when the urge comes!"

And they will leave, cheeks flush a little red, lips curved a little bit and maybe walking with a strut. And Thomas, trapped behind the counter in his little store, will raise one eyebrow and his lip will curl, just slightly and relax into his happy smile again when a customer sweeps in. Often, when a customer clatters in, worries and hopes and dreams and all those grey areas between emotions will shuffle in like unwanted houseguests behind them. As such, Thomas was one of the most knowledgeable people of local gossip and happenings.

He will eavesdrop to people, softly admonishing himself, but still, still, listen to them with a half-smile and tapping fingers, as he absorbed those bits of knowledge that crept and trickled and flew towards him. And he will give that smile of his, with his slightly-yellowish teeth.

It was during a slow day when Joseph came in.

"Hello."

"Hn."

Thomas presses his lips on themselves, feeling a black sulk flickering on the edges of his mind, and smiles as he entwined his plump fingers together. He studies Joseph with the mildness of one who knows he does not need to run far to catch his meal and repeats again. "Hello." He is determined to beat the politeness out of this man thing. He smiles again.

Joseph pauses in front of the fridge door and pulls it open, selecting a bottle of beer as he did so. He strode to the counter, setting down the bottle with a soft thud. A wallet appeared as if by magic, old leather and pain and death-smell, and he withdraws a note, flicking it on the counter. He does not look at Thomas' watery-green eyes. "Change." Thomas looks at Joseph. His smile grows wider and shows off more slightly yellowish teeth.

"You can't avoid me forever."

"Change."

He takes in the gravedigger's air of death-smell and unshaved stubble. Joseph always keeps himself clean. Then he remembers. He snaps his plump fingers and lean forward, glee shining in his eyes as he said, "Mabel, isn't it? Little darling, I have, ah, had always liked her. Sweet little thing, always calls me Mr. Finch-Bird, and always purchases grape flavoured lollipops from me." Joseph still does not look at Thomas' eyes.

"Change."

"Poor little sweetheart, what did she die off? Oh yes, I remember now! Accident in the kitchen, wasn't it? Knife slipped and..." Plump fingers pat Joseph's hand gently. "She was always a little darling. Did she look pretty when she died?"

Joseph paused now. Then he looked at Thomas' ordinary, watery-green eyes.

"Yes. That she did. Keep away from her, Thomas."

"I would not dream of touching her, Joseph!" He flaps his hands in mock horror. "Filthy little diseased creature, no trace or smell or sight of our kind, she makes me sick."

There was another pause. Thomas smiled. Joseph sighed.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Oh, you know."

"If the smell and sight of them makes you want to puke, why don't you leave?"

"Joseph..." Thomas' watery-green eyes flickered slightly. "It is an interesting place. I," And here he smiled again, mouth curving up, exposing his yellow teeth as he did so. "I am challenged by this people. There is too much excitement where I originate, and there is too much boredom where you formerly stayed. I am disgusted by the amount of humans in this place, they kill, they chop down trees, they destroy. But this place? Somehow, it is just right. Interesting. Disgusting. It is a blend of both. I want to see what happens, Joseph."

"Change."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Preserve me from this monstrous, unfeeling creature, which does not shed a tear at that impassioned speech of mine. Yes, well, here you are." A small pile of coins and some notes flutter onto Joseph's hand. As Joseph closed a fist around it, Thomas plucked a lollipop from the lollipop tin and smiled at Joseph. "Help me pass this to Mabel sweetheart, won't you, Joseph?"

A grunt issued from Joseph as he took the lollipop.

"Please visit again won't you? It gets boring. Kostriers isn't fun to talk too and let's not even mention her..."

"Hn."

"There's Budweiser for you if you visit within a week."

"Hn."

"Be a darling and come, Joseph. Please."

"Hn."

"Bye!"

"Hn."

The door opened and shut, the metal wind chimes tinkling out their sounds to the breeze. As Joseph replaced his change in the wallet, he studied the lollipop. Then replaced it back into his pocket, shrugging as he did so. "The lass should be happy to get gifts wherever she goes. Even though this isn't that well..." He took out the sweet and examined it again.

APPLE FLAVOUR

"Oh well... Gifts are gifts..."

And Thomas Justinius Finch smiles and sips harsh, bitter beer from a ordinary, perfect, pretty mug.

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And... It is done. Please review! -smiles-