{ he nervously shakes her hand. }
โHi, Felicia. Iโmโฆ.Maynard.โ
{ the name didnโt come out naturally. }
โAnd yeahโฆ Iโm just a friendly neighbor.โ
{ he almost chokes on that last part, now taking a sip of his drink to cover it up.}
"You seem. . . a little bit more kind than most of the people waltzing around this party," she explains, nodding towards the crowd that surrounds them.
Another sip from her flute.
"My name is Felicia," the thief greets, extending her hand for him.
โ โ โ
๏น she avoids the spotlight .
sheโs still unfamiliar with the
environment , so she prefers to
observe for now . of course ,
sheโs open to conversation if
someone approaches her .
#FeastWithFisk โค ๏น
โ โ โ
{ he takes a nervous gulp and smiles at her shyly as if he has something to hide. }
โOhโฆ uhโฆ. What makes you say that?โ
{ awkwardly looks around, trying not to meet her eyes. }
"You don't look like you belong here," Felica says by way of greeting, proceeding to sip from her champagne glass while standing before the stranger.
Yet something feels oddly familiar.
Happy Labor Day, New York. This day is reserved for the hardworking and dedicated people of this nation. Later this evening, a feast will be held at Fisk Tower for such people.
Use the hashtag #FeastWithFisk to rsvp. I hope to see you all there.