Alysha quickly found out there were no other Asians except herself in this village of 765 above the northern shores of Starfish Lake/Sea. Officer Herbert Brownstone gave her a steady stare as he passed the window of the coffee shop walking his regular beat. He made a note she was reading something, and that she was with an avatar dressed up like Santa Claus, perhaps her father but perhaps not. He would double back in about 15 minutes and check again, perhaps go in this time and ask a couple of questions while being nonchalant about it. “Where do you hail from, little girl. *Hell*?” Nah, that kind of joke would work with the joes down at the squad house. But not in public. Not after Santa Fe.
Seeing someone different and stand out-ish in the village always made him think of Big Smoke. The courts told him and his blue buddies they couldn’t call him Big *Black* Smoke any more, although he definitely *was,* pheh. On vacation now, he’d heard. Maybe he won’t come back this time. Probably visiting his brother or his cousin who lives somewhere down below the Lake, he thinks. Policepeople like to keep tabs on those that are different. He’d heard rumors there was a gay now out in Sector N above the church and mortuary. Perhaps time to expand his beat to take in Burro Alley again.
Sunklands 