By the by, I'm taking next week off for Thanksgiving though I hope to queue up some stuff for the week after to avoid being rushed as I was with today's post.
What passed for rain on the streets was little more than a fall of filth from above. That's how it was in the world; the filth flowed down from above to those below - figuratively and literally. The streets were washed in the runoff waste coming from the tall towers and flying terraces of the more privileged. Folks down here look up and see not the sky but the dirty underside of their supposed betters. You take small comfort from the that fact you know that they too did the same until at some great height those rich bastards who juiced the world for all its worth like some kind of fruit stood under clear skies and admired the view from the top.
I shrugged the hood on my coat up and hunched my shoulders. Stepping out into the gutter the dirty precipitate washed over me. I bowed my head, ducking under my hood as best I could and pushed through it. I glanced across the traffic heavy road and spied a drug deal in progress, a woman practicing that oldest of trades, and a pair of gangers sizing up the occupants of the street for a shake down. This place was flooded with filth both literal and less so.
Ahead of me I saw a grocer, his wares precious in this dark stinking place of deprivation, slip a nutratube to a young homeless child. The little boy seemed stunned, but quickly tucked the gift into his rags and darted away, slipping into a crumbling edifice that was now boarded over and slipping ever closer to the tipping point between building and rubble.
I was so taken aback by this sight that I nearly collided with a scrawny young woman. I mumbled some half hearted apology, still amazed that decency and mercy managed to find foothold here.
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| Image Source: http://andreasrocha.deviantart.com/art/Endless-Streets-207400804 |
What passed for rain on the streets was little more than a fall of filth from above. That's how it was in the world; the filth flowed down from above to those below - figuratively and literally. The streets were washed in the runoff waste coming from the tall towers and flying terraces of the more privileged. Folks down here look up and see not the sky but the dirty underside of their supposed betters. You take small comfort from the that fact you know that they too did the same until at some great height those rich bastards who juiced the world for all its worth like some kind of fruit stood under clear skies and admired the view from the top.
I shrugged the hood on my coat up and hunched my shoulders. Stepping out into the gutter the dirty precipitate washed over me. I bowed my head, ducking under my hood as best I could and pushed through it. I glanced across the traffic heavy road and spied a drug deal in progress, a woman practicing that oldest of trades, and a pair of gangers sizing up the occupants of the street for a shake down. This place was flooded with filth both literal and less so.
Ahead of me I saw a grocer, his wares precious in this dark stinking place of deprivation, slip a nutratube to a young homeless child. The little boy seemed stunned, but quickly tucked the gift into his rags and darted away, slipping into a crumbling edifice that was now boarded over and slipping ever closer to the tipping point between building and rubble.
I was so taken aback by this sight that I nearly collided with a scrawny young woman. I mumbled some half hearted apology, still amazed that decency and mercy managed to find foothold here.
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