I walk through the streets, stepping lightly so as to not scuff my new shoes. I look
straight ahead, but I cannot see far. The smoke that now covers the city makes it
impossible. I pull in a breathe, and the mask that everybody now wears makes
slight noises as it filters impurities out of the air, before I breathe it in. As I walk, I
glance to the side. A homeless man sits, coughing and wheezing. He doesn't have
a mask. He'll be dead soon. I keep walking, not giving the man another thought.
He'll be fine.
I continue down the street, observing more of the scenery. I think of what I will
eat for dinner. Maybe I'll order a pizza. Yes, that sounds good. I wait at the corner
to cross the street, when a man ignores the lights, and attempts to dash across. I
look to my left, and see an oncoming truck. It's not slowing down. The truck
smashes into the man, who flies into the air, and hits the asphalt with a crunch.
Many of his bones must have just broken. He'll be dead soon. The light changes,
and I step off the curb, and walk passed the man. He'll be fine.
I enter a small market, wishing I could smell the products that are on display.
They might not smell good, but I've worn this mask my whole life, and I have never
smelled anything. A small child runs up to me, his eyes big. He's a beggar from a
poor family, or an orphan. I push him out of the way. He obviously hasn't eaten in
days. He'll be dead soon. I exit through the other sid of the market, and turn into an
alley, heading towards my house. He'll be fine.
Halfway through the alley, a shady figure approaches me. I try to slip passed
him, but he blocks my path. He tells me to give him my money. I decline, like I
always do. The man slowly pulls out a pocket knife, then asks again. I decline. He
lunges forward and pushes the blade into my stomach. He lets go of the handle,
and reaches into my pocket to pull out my wallet. He takes off, running towards the
market. I manage to drag myself to the end of the alley, right by the street. I
collapse. My blood seeps into the gutters on the street. I'll be dead soon. I ignore
the pain, and observe the passing pedestrians, as my vision slowly darkens. I'll be
fine.
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Imaginary Grace
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Back from my break from Gaia.
Despite what my avatar says, I am male.
Despite what my avatar says, I am male.