Martin’s eyes shifted quickly to the left. It was there, in the pale, electric glow cast by the lamp rod, that he saw the strange blur, the crimson fluttering of wings that caused the rare disruption of his thoughts. It was indeed an uncommon thing in this city to see anything worth turning your glance for. The source of the crimson fluttering had disappeared leaving nothing but the vague image in Martin’s mind of a bird flying off through the smog.
Martin’s eyes shifted back to the lamp rod, the supposed evidence of progress. What was progress anyway? Because it surely had not hit this city yet. The lamp rod just floated there above the sidewalk, bouncing subtly in the slight breeze. The light it cast was a dead white, electric, no color, just like the city. Why did they even place those lights along the streets? No one really wanted to see each other anyway. The whole population’s past had been spent building up steel walls around themselves, hiding who they are and showing who they “ought” to be. All this city really was, in fact, was a masquerade ball without the festivities or the color. The day was as dark as the night and filled with the connect-the-dot hustle and bustle of hollow souls. The night life was a poor imitation of life and even more hollow than “life” during the day.
Martin lifted his eyes to the so-called “majestic” skyline. It was really nothing but a bunch of pale, electric lights in the midst of a hazy layer of thick smog. Dark and hollow. Those were the two words that summed up the entire city. Martin wondered if genuine life would ever come to Thanopolis.
A cold raindrop hit his nose.
Someone above him was weeping.
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