Cal's little one-bedroom apartment wasn't much, but, as Cal liked to say, it kept him dry in the rain. At first glance, though, it seemed reminicent of a library. Books were everywhere, crammed onto the three shelves in the living room and a few opened to various pages on the coffeetable, many of which were marked with sticky notes. A closer look at these books would reveal that Cal's literary tastes were wide and varied; some shelves housed volumes of Shakespeare and Faulkner while others held contemporary fiction, from Stephen King to Alan Moore. The whole apartment was well-lit and cheerful looking, although not many decorations hung on the walls.
Cal himself was sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of peppermint tea and enjoying an Agatha Christie novel. All at once, he looked up sharply from his book, his eyes going glassy-grey for a few moments. A man stood in Cal's doorway, his lips moving as if asking a question. Cal focused on the man's mouth, trying to read his lips, although the stranger's body language was enough to pose the question "may I come in" all by itself. Sizing the man up, Cal noted the round, sweet face and curious eyes. In a moment, the stranger entered Cal's apartment and took a seat in the comfortable reading chair, his demeanor friendly but still rather businesslike. Clearly, there was something that this man wanted from him--
Cal's sight cleared and he blinked a few times, as he always did when he came out of a vision. He really needed to work on his lip-reading, Cal decided, sighing softly. For the second time that week he was gripped by the inexplicable sensation that he'd seen someone somewhere before, although unlike the man at the bookstore, Cal's brain seemed to be able to place this new stranger much faster. "He was asking questions..." Cal muttered to himself, glancing down at his coffeetable, which was littered with a selection of books and newspapers that ranged from that day's issue to copies that were almost a week old. Grabbing the nearest newspaper, last Sunday's edition of the Axis City Daily News, he scanned through the pages until he found what he sought: a tiny, low-resolution picture of a reporter printed next to one of his articles. Squinting at it, Cal examined the reporter's face, checking it against the one he's just seen in his vision. Yes, that had to be him; everything matched. He knew he'd seen that face somewhere before! Cal quietly congratulated himself for being able to place it, this time, and glanced at the name printed at the end of the article. "Article by Aiden Adams." He read, his brow furrowing. Aiden Adams? He thought self-consciously, He's one of the city's best journalists! What would he be doing here? Not that it mattered much, Cal told himself, relaxing a little. That was in the future, and it would happened when it happened.
Not five seconds later Calvin heard the knock at his door and caught the male voice asking him if he had a moment to spare. Ah. Apparently the future hadn't been too far off. He rose from the couch, laying his book and tea on the table, and crossed the room to open the door. "Hello, Mr. Adams." He greeted his guest pleasantly. "Do come in."