Post by L. Malady on Aug 22, 2009 21:15:28 GMT -5
Setting : The park in the middle of the city. Sun has just recently gone down, and it's lightly cloudy.
Status : Please ask before joining.
For most, the park was a nice place to relax. It was quiet, he assumed, it was friendly. The city seemed to have tried its hardest to uphold the relatively small plot of land's quality. They planted things, they made sure the chalk lines in the baseball area were always up to snuff, kept the place clean as they could. There were kids, couples, pets, always going this way or that or not going anywhere at all. It was so nice to just sit back and enjoy the sun and the soft noises that filled the air, and sometimes the music according to the fliers at the gates. He could practically see the children wriggling through the plastic warm-coloured tunnels that were supported by wooden beams, even when they grew red hot in the baking sun but no one seemed to mind. It was all fun. And he could see the sun and the kids swinging on the chained swingsets and sliding down the slide and playing in the sand and couples having picnics and people walking their dogs and birds and the sun and people sitting on this very bench and the sun
And it was not a life for him. It was one he missed out on, and one he wasn't going to get back. He grew up in the baking sun, but it was nothing like here; it was hotter. There was no playground. There was an urban jungle where gangs kicked kids that didn't do what they wanted them to. That was the life he knew, and it clearly wasn't the lifestyle he perceived here. Here it was a quaint suburban place, in spite of the few buildings that seemed to scrape the clouds as they lolled by. It wasn't even on most maps.
He supposed it was a nice enough place to disappear. It might have been nicer if he could walk the day like the people he could imagine being here just about every day as the summer ended. It might have been nicer if food came easier, if he owned the roof over his head instead of practically stealing new structures in the suburbs, if things were normal.
And that was not a life for him. No, his life rested on the night streets of this city and the housing projects that were rather unnecessary. Fortunately, the houses sat empty for months, giving him somewhere to be just a little longer.
He sighed as his bony fingers delicately took hold of the next page and laid it back down on the opposite side. Now that his glowing eyes were satisfied with the emptiness of the park at dusk, he shifted on the curved wooden bench and was serenaded by a cricket somewhere nearby. Now that his mind was satisfied with reminding him of his state of outcast, it could return to the book which was actually of some quality. No, it wasn't the best, but it was certainly much better than that Tritelight teenage girls dared to call a novel, much less a "saga." What stupidity. Now that he was satisfied to some degree, he sank back into the book, effortlessly scanning the page and absorbing the words. Next page, next page, next page...
...And yet something continuously caused him to look back up, like a bad itch somewhere in his head that he couldn't scratch, and the itch made him look up and around. He had to keep looking back at the brightly coloured plastics of the playground, dully illuminated in the pale moonlight, at the cobblestone pathways, at the trees, at the grass, at the sky, at what was there when he was not.
This was what life could have been like, wasn't it? If he hadn't stuck his neck out for the ultimately ungrateful, at least he might be happy. He might have had a chance to go to a playground, or maybe given someone else to go to that playground. He would almost kill for a life like this.
But it was not a life for him, and he didn't care. He shifted several times now, until he layed down completely, with the book held over his face, blocking out the only light he'd been reading by for a while now. The street lamps were just for show here, the park was shut down after dark. But maybe he wouldn't know that, wouldn't care to know that, if he walked in the sun like everyone else in the world. A din of crickets drowned out his growl.
It was for the best that he lived the life he did. Humanity was horrendously obnoxious and back-stabbing. Beside, it didn't matter to him anymore. He didn't matter. This normal life these people lived was gone now, and he didn't care.
He couldn't care.
Status : Please ask before joining.
----
For most, the park was a nice place to relax. It was quiet, he assumed, it was friendly. The city seemed to have tried its hardest to uphold the relatively small plot of land's quality. They planted things, they made sure the chalk lines in the baseball area were always up to snuff, kept the place clean as they could. There were kids, couples, pets, always going this way or that or not going anywhere at all. It was so nice to just sit back and enjoy the sun and the soft noises that filled the air, and sometimes the music according to the fliers at the gates. He could practically see the children wriggling through the plastic warm-coloured tunnels that were supported by wooden beams, even when they grew red hot in the baking sun but no one seemed to mind. It was all fun. And he could see the sun and the kids swinging on the chained swingsets and sliding down the slide and playing in the sand and couples having picnics and people walking their dogs and birds and the sun and people sitting on this very bench and the sun
And it was not a life for him. It was one he missed out on, and one he wasn't going to get back. He grew up in the baking sun, but it was nothing like here; it was hotter. There was no playground. There was an urban jungle where gangs kicked kids that didn't do what they wanted them to. That was the life he knew, and it clearly wasn't the lifestyle he perceived here. Here it was a quaint suburban place, in spite of the few buildings that seemed to scrape the clouds as they lolled by. It wasn't even on most maps.
He supposed it was a nice enough place to disappear. It might have been nicer if he could walk the day like the people he could imagine being here just about every day as the summer ended. It might have been nicer if food came easier, if he owned the roof over his head instead of practically stealing new structures in the suburbs, if things were normal.
And that was not a life for him. No, his life rested on the night streets of this city and the housing projects that were rather unnecessary. Fortunately, the houses sat empty for months, giving him somewhere to be just a little longer.
He sighed as his bony fingers delicately took hold of the next page and laid it back down on the opposite side. Now that his glowing eyes were satisfied with the emptiness of the park at dusk, he shifted on the curved wooden bench and was serenaded by a cricket somewhere nearby. Now that his mind was satisfied with reminding him of his state of outcast, it could return to the book which was actually of some quality. No, it wasn't the best, but it was certainly much better than that Tritelight teenage girls dared to call a novel, much less a "saga." What stupidity. Now that he was satisfied to some degree, he sank back into the book, effortlessly scanning the page and absorbing the words. Next page, next page, next page...
...And yet something continuously caused him to look back up, like a bad itch somewhere in his head that he couldn't scratch, and the itch made him look up and around. He had to keep looking back at the brightly coloured plastics of the playground, dully illuminated in the pale moonlight, at the cobblestone pathways, at the trees, at the grass, at the sky, at what was there when he was not.
This was what life could have been like, wasn't it? If he hadn't stuck his neck out for the ultimately ungrateful, at least he might be happy. He might have had a chance to go to a playground, or maybe given someone else to go to that playground. He would almost kill for a life like this.
But it was not a life for him, and he didn't care. He shifted several times now, until he layed down completely, with the book held over his face, blocking out the only light he'd been reading by for a while now. The street lamps were just for show here, the park was shut down after dark. But maybe he wouldn't know that, wouldn't care to know that, if he walked in the sun like everyone else in the world. A din of crickets drowned out his growl.
It was for the best that he lived the life he did. Humanity was horrendously obnoxious and back-stabbing. Beside, it didn't matter to him anymore. He didn't matter. This normal life these people lived was gone now, and he didn't care.
He couldn't care.