The catcher.

I never wanted this my father had been a catcher since he turned 17 and I was assumed the position when I myself turned 22 for women it's different.

I sit across from Dale, a new guy in my life who I doubt is ready for this kind of life I live. He is taller than me but average height. We met at work a few months back, and he asked me out for lunch today for the first time.

He studies his menu while I analyze his arms, both resting on the table. His protruding veins rest underneath his cream skin.

“What are you getting? I want breakfast, but I want dinner too.” his voice is carried on the aroma of the coffee swirling around my head.

“I'm thinking about dinner too so many choices.”

The waitress approaches her bulging belly hangs under her shirt.

“What can I get you guys?” She says.

We both decide on the French Toast deal.

She removes both menus and titters away. Dale looks over at me and smiles. All I can think about is if he’s really ready for this. He barely knows me and I can feel how deeply passionate he feels about me. I like him and I can barely contain my excitement when he comes in but im thinking about his wellbeing and the repercussions he’ll face when they find out about us. He’ll be more at risk than ever.

“French toast, eggs over easy, sausage and side of hash enjoy.”

“So what do you think about the new launch product?” his mouth full of French toast. It's hard not to giggle and reach across and wipe the egg off his chin. We stare into each other's eyes a passionate staring contest.

“I mean the design is great, but a product of that quality is too underpriced.”

The woman returns with the receipt handing the small leather booklet instead of placing it on the table. I open it to see the damage, and there is a small sigil under the total. It means “BRING YOUR EVIL” if you're a 3rd generation catcher you should be able to read sigils. This one is ancient, and it's from a carrier, so this is only the messenger.

“How far along?” I inquire, handing back the booklet and my card.

“June,” she says her smile stretched across her face.

“Boy or Girl?” my brow raised.

“Boy.” she titters away once again.

“ill be right back. I have to use the rest room.” I excuse myself to find her.

“Hey check this little guy out!” I return with a small yellow finch.

“He flew right in the bathroom window, you ready to go?” he gathers his things gushing over the bird.

We part ways, and I find a nearby alley and let the thing fly off. I slide my book out, checking my numbers.

Sixteen demons down a 499,567 to go.