lafinjack: (Wooooo)
Walking home, the world as grey as usual. Fog had rolled in earlier, making the greyness more complete. The grey-green of the trees, the grey-yellow hiss of the streetlights (on almost all day now, when will they turn off earlier?), the grey-rainbow of the passing cars, though they were a grey blur to begin with, not the bright menagerie of generations past. Even the birds and squirrels were grey to hide them from their grey predators.

Time passed, I walked more, away from the city. For every car not here, another squirrel replaced it. Always funny how that works, like reincarnation is real, like we ride the souls of machines instead of the souls of horses these days. Soon the cars were gone, and the animals weren't scared of me - they never learned the reasons to be. The road went on, though, so I kept walking.

The black lump snuck up on me from out of the fog. As I walked my slow measured pace, the black lump coalesced into two lumps, side by side. Kids playing with manholes again, I figured, though I was the only human soul I could see. I got closer on my sidewalk, protecting me from the asphalt, and could see random streaks of light from the lump that was the sewer entrance. The lump that was the cover stayed dark. Closer, and I could hear noises. Still closer, they turned into voices. Across from the hole on my strip of safety and the voice, singular, was screaming. Asking, begging, for help.

As I stood there it became quiet.

I looked one way, then the other. Then to the trees behind me, and the trees across. Still the only soul walking upright. My phone refused to talk to its brothers and sisters. "Too far!" it told me, in a digital gleam. I looked around again, in the manner of confused people everywhere, knowing the results before I had started, also in the manner of confused people everywhere. But I had my answer, and that was all I needed.

I stepped onto the grey asphalt, to the black lump hiding its world of color. I stepped down...

...and that was how I saw how deep the manhole goes.
lafinjack: (Default)
Walking home, the world as grey as usual. Fog had rolled in earlier, making the greyness more complete. The grey-green of the trees, the grey-yellow hiss of the streetlights (on almost all day now, when will they turn off earlier?), the grey-rainbow of the passing cars, though they were a grey blur to begin with, not the bright menagerie of generations past. Even the birds and squirrels were grey to hide them from their grey predators.

Time passed, I walked more, away from the city. For every car not here, another squirrel replaced it. Always funny how that works, like reincarnation is real, like we ride the souls of machines instead of the souls of horses these days. Soon the cars were gone, and the animals weren't scared of me - they never learned the reasons to be. The road went on, though, so I kept walking.

The black lump snuck up on me from out of the fog. As I walked my slow measured pace, the black lump coalesced into two lumps, side by side. Kids playing with manholes again, I figured, though I was the only human soul I could see. I got closer on my sidewalk, protecting me from the asphalt, and could see random streaks of light from the lump that was the sewer entrance. The lump that was the cover stayed dark. Closer, and I could hear noises. Still closer, they turned into voices. Across from the hole on my strip of safety and the voice, singular, was screaming. Asking, begging, for help.

As I stood there it became quiet.

I looked one way, then the other. Then to the trees behind me, and the trees across. Still the only soul walking upright. My phone refused to talk to its brothers and sisters. "Too far!" it told me, in a digital gleam. I looked around again, in the manner of confused people everywhere, knowing the results before I had started, also in the manner of confused people everywhere. But I had my answer, and that was all I needed.

I stepped onto the grey asphalt, to the black lump hiding its world of color. I stepped down...

...and that was how I saw how deep the manhole goes.

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lafinjack

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