The Corporate District was a very large district, probably the largest area in Ur, if Elmer was to say. After all, as the Merchant’s District housed all the major factories, so did the Corporate District house all the major businesses and corporations; and most of all, it was bestowed with the benevolent Time Square.

Because of this train of thought, Elmer was able to justify the aches his under feet had grown to have.

Usually, trekking from one point to another in the same area shouldn’t have been a huge task—at least for people with similar status’ as Elmer’s—but, apparently, the Corporate District was another beast in its entirety.

Even though his physicality and spirituality was weakened, due to his lack of enough night rest, Elmer was still an Ascender, and most of all, a born peasant. Surely, trekking shouldn’t have been such an exhausting experience. Though, sadly, that was the state he’d found himself in.

He was hunched over in front of an imposing multi-story building with a lot of tall narrow windows, and a large stone sign above its entrance displaying the name “Ur’s Tribune” in bold, serif letters.

It was already late into the day, so there were no paperboys rushing out of the headquarters of Ur’s Tribune and hopping onto their trademark bicycles, their bags loaded with newspapers for delivery.

The time for that had long passed; therefore it was only the newsies who remained around the area. Small boys of nothing more than thirteen dressed in their flat caps and either shirts and suspenders, or oversized jackets, screaming their common catchphrase: “Extra! Extra!”

Elmer didn’t pay much mind to his scenery though. He had only halted to catch his breath. Once that was achieved he would proceed with his actual reason for visiting Ur’s Tribune.

“Mister,” a tender voice suddenly called from his side, and Elmer instinctively took his gaze to his right to see a wide eyed child with brown, rough hair stretching a newspaper at him. “Want a copy? It’s just two pence to read all about what Ur's Tribune has to offer.”

Elmer was not one bit surprised that a child who looked no older than five was already out on the streets working; after all, countless were here. And since arriving in Ur had broadened his horizons, he was no longer new to this view and had long realized how privileged he had been to have resided in an orphanage.

In Meadbray he had not needed to work on the streets, the orphanage took care of his meals, so every duty of his had been majorly chores within the walls of the orphanage.

Honestly, his life would have been a lot more blissful than most of a similar class as he if only he had never taken Mabel out on that winter night six years ago.

Elmer sighed and straightened himself, his breathing now somewhat stabilized.

“Here.” He took out two pence without hesitation from the change in his right pocket and handed it to the child who had approached him, buying the newspaper he had been offered.

The newsie bowed at him in thanks and hurried to another person who had not yet been bothered by his fellow companions in trade, a gentleman dressed to the neck.

At that moment, Elmer folded his newspaper just enough so that it fit in his jacket’s pocket and walked up the spacious stone stairs of Ur’s Tribune’s headquarters, past its reinforced double doors, and into it.

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Stepping into the building, the smells of ink and paper, ones more concentrated than that which was accredited to libraries and bookstores, rushed into his nostrils, greeting him wholeheartedly. And Elmer understood such a reception. He was inside a newspaper’s headquarters, anything less of such a thick scent would have been alarming.

The interior of Ur’s Tribune was also quite stuffy, and due to that the cold which had been tugging at Elmer while he’d been outside and exposed petered out significantly. Although, his hands still remained inside his brown work man’s jacket.

He flayed his eyes around the spacious lobby for a moment, taking quick glances at the visitors who were either directed toward their destinations, or sitting down patiently on simple couches in the waiting area. It was not until the small line he met at the large reception desk of mahogany was no more did he clear his throat and walk forward.

“Good afternoon,” Elmer greeted after ringing the brass bell on the reception desk, the clerk, who was a woman in nothing more than her late twenties, looking up at him. She was dressed in a white lace blouse with frills and a shin-length flared skirt the same color as her black hair packed into a ponytail.

“Hello,” the clerk greeted with a smile, halting her usage of the blotter in her hand to absorb the excess ink from a document before her. “What can I help you with today, Sir?”

“I’d like to put up an advertisement,” Elmer answered with a straight face, some of it hidden under his flat cap’s brim.

“Alright,” the clerk put down her blotter. “What exactly is this advertisement?”

“It’s an excerpt from a novel I’m writing.”

“I see.” The clerk pulled open a drawer and brought out a document. “Here are the rates for advertisements; pick your choice.”

Elmer looked into the grid that was drawn on the document and saw that it was split into three advertisement packages. Front page, middle page, and back page.

The front page was priced at a whopping sum of ten mints, the back: five, while the middle at two mints. All which were to be expected, most especially the middle page advertisement package as it was the cheapest of the three. It was the one hidden from the eyes of most after all.

Elmer did not dwell on the advertisement options for long and immediately made his decision. “Back page.”

For two weeks that’ll be thirty five mints… Blimey bugger… That’s a lot of money…

He had not yet calculated how much he had left, but he was very sure that it was under three hundred mints. He would become poor once again if he did not make some sort of income in one way or another soon.

“Okay.” The clerk nodded in response to Elmer’s choice, then took to her feet as she returned the document she had brought out back into its drawer. “Have your seat.” She gestured at the couches in the waiting area. “I’ll relay your purpose to the sales representative of the advertising department so he can attend to you.”

“Alright.” Elmer turned around and found himself an empty spot in the waiting area, while the clerk vanished through a curtained partition to her right.

I hope I get a return for my money, I’m already running quite low… All of a sudden, Elmer felt a yawn coming and immediately pulled his right hand free from his jacket’s pocket to politely cover his mouth. Curse this tiredness… He seethed within himself before heaving out an exhale. I should get a pack of cigarettes on my way home; the last one’s already exhausted… Like me, heh…

In that instant Elmer saw Ur’s Tribune’s front desk’s clerk return, though not alone.

A young man with stress marks underneath his eyes, garbed in a turtleneck and a gray daytime vest, came with her. And as soon as Elmer noticed the clerk gesturing at him while whispering to the man, he sighed and rose to his feet.

“Good afternoon,” Elmer greeted when he and the man converged at the center of the lobby—a spot which was free of crowd—while the clerk returned to her desk.

The man smiled and stretched forth his hand, initiating a handshake. “Elias. Elias Moretti.”

“Floyd Edgar.” Elmer accepted the handshake, his palm taking a bit of the warmth Elias’ had for a moment.

“Liza already filled me in on the basics,” Elias said as he and Elmer’s palms left each other’s embrace. “Mind taking a seat?”