[u]Sherry Attar[/u]

Pages, light like feathers of a wing…this was her heaven, flipping through to the next page of the novel for what was literally the nth time. All books were the escape from the mundane, and at the same time, a prison that enchanted her to return time and time again into its feather clutches. A good book knew how to pace its developments. What most would think as boring drivel, and lengthy descriptive filler…was a creeping fuse. And boom, the story exploded most spectacularly.

To be honest, Mr Carlyle’s little kiss scene was a dull affair at best…but like it or not, a job from the bossiest bitch of the crew was still a job. It did have some interests tied to it, such as the involvement of Mr Gold. Why take care of the newcomer, when he didn’t even care for the plight of the quaint little nuns and their church? Mr Carlyle didn’t look like he came from a whole lot of money…if he could afford Mr Gold, surely, he could afford a proper apartment or house.

Some of the best stories came in purely picture form, and what Sherry wove was a mental tapestry of a scene most foul. Omit a detail here, imply a detail there, and interview a confused nurse way over there…and you had the story of a prowler from out of town coming into the hospitals trying unsavoury things on the innocent, vulnerable Jane Doe. If a certain nurse (who remains unnamed) hadn’t seen what happened, my, what might that villain have done?!

And this continued on, and on, article after article.

Of course, she did spend an equal amount of time making some side articles on the efforts of the mayor. Being all over town after the earthquake, to personally see to the disaster relief, taking care of the small orphan boy…Regina never looked so good.

Sitting cross-legged in Granny’s diner, Sherry smiled brightly and waved at the attending waitress, Ashley. “Can I get some hot water, please?” The waitress waited a little bit for the rest of the order. Sherry gave her a smile. The waitress gave her an imploring look. “That’s it for now.” A sour sort of look the waitress’s face, but she forced a smile and left to get the hot water. The Miner’s day was today, the could only mean a newsprint article covering the event…that’d be Sherry’s break from all this Mr Carlyle business.