a chuck wendig prompt (204 words) - here
I had my notebook and a pencil safely tucked away in my parka. A glance at my wrist showed it was 9:30 pm. Right on time, this time at least… I relied on the weather report, which said no snow, no rain.
Between Houston Street, Canal Street and South Ferry Station was something I dubbed the Triangle of Uncanny. I’ve been down here for nearly a weird week, every night. I’ve been exploring the streets, the parks towards the Hudson, taking notes. Today was Teardrop Park on schedule.
The triangle… That thing kept spitting out huge dark figures, gestalten, weird shops, I never was able to located during the day. The empty streets were as inviting as ever. That never failed to get the writing juice flowing. I heard the Hudson ahead, licking at the piers and walls of River Terrace.
A young girl, not older than twelve stood at the entrance of the park, waiting for me. Her straight dark was hair tied back, her bright sand colored eyes beamed at me. “Welcome to the moonlight market, pilgrim. Password. Please.” She smiled a broad, nearly friendly smile.
“Uh…” I said, and remembered what that hobo screamed at me. “Uhm…BookFeet?”