Blog 1: A New Day...

The day started with two loud noises. The first noise was the sharp ringing of Devon's alarm clock, and not a moment later, the second sound followed suit with a loud crash. The loud crash in question was in fact Devon's Devilishly large hands connecting smartly with the then unsuspecting alarm clock. Considering that Devon had followed this alarm clock without falter for the past 10 years, one would think that the alarm clock would have eventually acquired the knowledge that if it wanted to stopped being smacked at 6:30am each morning (except Sunday, as Devon was surprisingly religious given his profession) that it would just stop ringing altogether.

With many huffs and grunts, Devon stretched jerkily and waddle quickly into the bathroom. His early morning constitution over with, Devon then proceeded, without much grace, into the adjoining room, which happened to be his sparsely stocked kitchen. One could easily get the impression that Devon was lacking of female presence in his life. When one counts the out dated milk gallon and the never cleaned coffee machine and the dishes from last week, one could also assume that poor Devon was not as organized and on top of things as one might initially expect.

A 10 year resident of Castle Apartments, he was only well known in the building for two reasons. reason one: in Devon's entire 10 years spent at Castle Apartments, he had never missed paying the rent. The second reason that Devon was known was because he was the only one in castle apartments, and in fact the entire town, that spoke with a British accent.

Indeed, Devon was British, having grown up in Newcastle during his childhood, but just before he left high school, his parents moved to the States, leaving him to finish high school on his own. He did, but without much gusto, never went to college, choosing instead to pursue the life of drugs and music. He made a decent living being a DJ in the UK, but eventually got bored with it all and moved in with his parents Stateside. His parents quickly threw him out and left him with little pocket money. Instead of flying back to Britain like his parents strongly suggested, he instead opted to see what options might await him in the Land of Opportunities. Accordingly, he moved into Castle Apartments and and soon became the DJ for the town radio station, 100.4 WTF.

Moving back into the present space, Devon sighed as he saw the outdated milk, but no cereal to go with it. After exploring his food options by flinging open empty cupboards, he soon assessed that there was indeed no food in the apartment, and that before going to work, he needed to take a short stroll across the street and down Brownstone to the local grocery. Going back into his sparsely furnished bedroom, Devon thew on some clothes over his relatively slender and cylindrical body. Taking a quick glance out the window before he left his apartment, he notice that it again was another sunny day that was most likely swelteringly hot. Hoping that it was not the case he rode the elevator down from his top floor apartment (number 779) waved unvaryingly at the front desk guard, and proceeded out the the double doors of Castle Apartments and into the blaring hot sun.

Taking a quick glance and noticing a smell that he could not place, ran quickly across the street. Even though the sun was out, drivers at that time of morning are still angry at having to be up at that time of morning, and seeing as Benson Street was the main way through town, drivers tended to zoom by without abandon. Having made it across the street, Devon took another look around, a small bead of sweat dripped down his nose.