For Chelsea

Arlen tried to regain composure as he stared at the 5 drawers of the heavy, metal desk...
For such a colorful place as a coffee shoppe, Arlen couldn't help but wonder why the office,
or so he assumed it should be, was so void of life and cold.
His attempts, however, were in vain as he started to sweat from all the excitement.
Thoughts of his family ran through his head, the few memories he had were being replayed over and over as he made the first move toward the center, stationary drawer.

As he suspected, it was filled with pencils and staples, the usual paperwork materials. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But even ordinary would be enough for him right now. Any sign of how he ended up in Paravice alone, without any recollections of his life before 13 would be more than what he'd asked for.

Top left drawer, empty except for an old planner, dated 2012. He skimmed the pages for his name. Roulet... Roulet...

"Damn I wish I knew my parents' names," Arlen thought as he saw nothing but names and numbers with no Roulet to be found.

Bottom left. Folders of sales and profits, bills and charts...

Not even a picture. Arlen couldn't point out his parents if they were sitting right next to him, he had to adjust to his new life in Paravice as if his life before that had never existed. Because, for all he knew, it didn't.

Right side, top drawer. Stuck. He couldn't pry the drawer out of its jam, so he moved on.

Last one: applications for hire, past employee records. His eyes lit up as he remembered what pointed him hear in the first place. "Roulet? You related to that old coffee shoppe girl? What was her name, Leia?"

Flipping through pages he stared down pages with such a fervent determination that anyone watching could have swore he'd burn a hole through the paper. Names upon names of strangers who could help him find his family, and answer the questions he'd wondered for so long, the airship crew only knew as much as he did.

After about 4 applications, Arlen heard a noise from inside the dining room, so he grabbed all of the applications and began to make his way out. Once back in the dining room, he saw that it was empty except for him, and he strolled across the room toward the door.

Another creak.

Arlen darted around to see that a cat had found a way inside, probably escaping the cold of autumn in Fircenz. He felt relieved, but realized that he'd spent more time than he needed to inside, and that it was time to go. He thanked the cat and let himself out.

A chill gust snapped Arlen back to reality. Miles from anywhere he'd called home, it was time to find a place to stay.