Let me just tell you that going here was easy, but talking to this old man was another story.
He was currently leaning over the counter, staring at us in his mid-dim kitchen while we sat at a table which looks as old as him.
Fayette whispered, “Creepy, huh?”
I looked at the wrinkled man, “Do you even talk bro?”
Honestly, I had no idea where that came from; I usually never talk like that and for some reason that felt foreign to me. Something in his demeanor changed as if what I said hurt him. His lip curled up and I could have sworn he had hissed at me.
He smirked, “Child, you will address me as a superior. I'm not this bro that you seek.”
I folded my hands on the table like a scolded kid, “Yes sir.”
He shuffled his tiny old body around the kitchen, pouring some tea as he placed the
