The past week had been a strange one for Steven. It started with an odd feeling about a bus he had seen advertised on television last Sunday, but he had put that down to boredom over the case files he had been going over. Small town crime wasn't as exhilarating as the case files that passed over his desk in the JAG offices.
Then, while at work the following day, he had felt ill. Run down and tired. Old, even. Extremely old. However, Steve just figured that the stresses of moving and the confrontation that never was with Valentina had left him a little run down. Nothing a decent night's sleep didn't fix. After all, he was perfectly fine the next day.
There were some odd dreams that occurred, but Steven paid them no mind. The odd one about him actually being an angel was probably from reading too many reports of angel dreams on the network. It meant nothing. Except there was a tiny flutter within his mind that said that wasn't true.
The dream he had last night had been the most vivid. There was a man. He seemed familiar and yet Steven couldn't place his name, but he knew there was a close bond of friendship. They were driving in a car, heading somewhere. Not just any car - a black 1976 Chevrolet Impala. It was the man's pride and joy. Steve had no idea how he knew that but those details felt important to remember. It all felt so real but Steven couldn't recall it ever happening.
Needing to have a break from inside his head before he lost his mind, Steven decided to take it upon himself to venture out to Hogfest. He remembered attending a similar festival as a child, although it went under a different name. The principle was the same though.
He found a place where they offered bourbon tasting and decided there was no harm in trying the local product. It was a smooth blend, not something he would regularly drink but Steven purchased a bottle, thinking perhaps his twin brother might appreciate it as a Christmas gift.
Steve continued to walk around with a half cup of soda in his hand, taking in the different sights and smells. A feeling that he had a friend that would enjoy the festival far more than he did made him ponder a moment. Lost in thought again, Steven failed to notice when he bumped into someone. "I'm sorry." He apologized automatically, grabbing a napkin off a nearby table and offering them to the person he bumped into and accidentally spilled soda on.