You owned a bookstore just beneath your house, nothing too big, but it was your pride. You were sitting at the counter when someone stepped into your shop; it was a regular. Oddly, he always came on the same day of the week at the same hour, whether it was sunny or raining, and this has been the case since you opened your business.

He wandered between the bookshelves with the same languidness, not seeming to look for anything in particular.