Hey there everyone, thanks for coming back to check out yet another post from me. The tasking goes as follows- “after you’ve done them, look at them and find a way to tie them together in a story. You could put them together in one blog post, but if you can hyperlink them together, even better! That would mean constructing a story that jumps across media sites in a way that works as a single story. If you really can’t make it work with the Daily Creates that come up, you can reach back to this past week, but no further. You can make it easy on yourself by starting early.”
So, here goes nothing.
Rich started his day the normal way. Up early- 4 am, an ice cold shower, quick check of his oil dipstick, lubing of some achy ball bearings, into a red jumpsuit, and out the door. A day like today was extremely rare for Rich, he wanted to make sure he got everything out of it. A morning jog around the city was in order, which was followed by breakfast at Rich’s favorite coffee shop. He returned to his home to get his dog and bring him for a walk to the local farmer’s market. Rich indented to make his favorite soup for dinner- a tradition on these days.
Everything noteworthy started when Rich and his dog were talking a relaxing walk on one of Rich’s few (and cherished) off days. Though his dog was more of a monster than a dog, honestly. With a jet black fully-grown Boerbull named Benny at his side, Rich never had problems finding personal space on the crowded city-streets. As they made their way through the crowded bazaar-like market, they came across a man selling goats. Rich was just about to pet the goat when it —
The goat salesman assured Rich that it was normal, and tried to convince him to trade Benny for a few goats. “After all, the dog cannot make any milk,” said the man. Rich laughed off his attempts at persuasion and moved along. Right around the time when Rich would’ve normally turned around to head home, he saw a man steal a child.
Instinctively, Rich gave Benny two commands in Dutch, that said in short “do not follow, go back to the car”. Without hesitation, Benny did as he was told and took off in another direction, not waiting for a small food cart to get out of his way- leaping over it with ease whilst simultaneously terrifying its owner.
An hour, three crashed cars, a can of WD-40, a now-ruined cashmere sweater, and 367 9mm bullets later, Rich returned the child to his father. Limping his way to his car, he found Benny, bored to tears, sitting nearby. As Rich approached, Benny barked with excitement. The deep, loud bark that escaped him sent the neighborhood kids that were watching from the branches of a nearby tree away- screaming.
As he got back into his car, Rich slumped down into his driver’s seat and grabbed the big-gulp from the center console. It was filled with premium gasoline. He gulped it down quickly and immediately felt better. With a quick pat on the head of Benny, they were ready to head back to their apartment- though ‘penthouse’ is a more fitting description. Rich thought briefly about the meal that he never got a chance to make, while it was disappointing, he was pleased at the thought of the child he saved. Rich poured a scotch and fell asleep thinking about spy things, and the soup he’d make on his next off day.