chantal

Chantal pulled her car, a boxy little BMW too old to be considered a flashy vehicle, into the driveway of the address Tadhg MacEibhir had given her. It was quarter to ten on Saturday morning and she was more than a little eager to check out the ball python he was willing to place in her care. Reptilian diva, more likely, she mused as she got out of the car, wiggled her feet back into her flip flops and stood looking at the house before her.

He said ten, she had a few minutes to spare and to compose herself. Meeting new people was something she both enjoyed and dreaded. It was great getting to know someone, fun to make a connection, make a friend...it was also entirely uncomfortable and awkward when it came to basic niceties like shaking hands and making casual contact. She hoped he wouldn't think her rude or some maladjusted introvert if she tried to forgo being hands-on with anyone but the snake.

Chantal smiled again. A pet. Something she could pick up, handle, caress and not have to worry about finding the unexpected. It never worked with animals, only people. People other than herself. There's irony for you. See the future for everyone else but your own is nothing but a black void. Some talent.

She shook herself and made her way to the front door, rang the bell once and then knocked.