Author: Thomas N. Sears PM
In the not too distant future, an unknown man takes the time to think about his worldview just before setting off a chain of groundbreaking events.Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Words: 762 - Published: 06-26-12 - id: 3036098
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One's unimportant stance against the flow of matter, when looked at from afar, seems like an ant most worthlessly moving back and forth unaware of the giant boot about to step on it.
The smell of burnt sugar resided in the air. My eyes were adjusting to the vibrant sunset light, as purple smoke and rays of yellow painted the American sky.
Streets were steaming with the accumulated filth of days past. The sound of accelerating automobiles felt natural, while the barks of dogs and men were routinely chanting their terrible song.
As an act of reflex, my hands hid within my trench coat's pockets. Keeping at a reasonable pace I walked towards the nearest train station, only to stop a few feet away once I realized it would be closed. A noteworthy wave of air suddenly picked up, hitting my face continuously, forcing my eyes to close half-way.
I leaned on a light-pole next to the main road's sidewalk and lit on a cigarette, decided to wait for a cab and it's probably unlikeable driver.
Across the old and dirty street, an old man -looked close to 90- is held at gunpoint. The armed man is young, probably on drugs. I watch as the old man, sweating and afraid, gives away everything he's carrying.
As the young thief takes off, I get to thinking. In a different time, I would have stopped him. I would have beaten him into submission and would have completed my altruistic act by giving the old man his possessions back. In a different time.
47 minutes later, the mustard ride arrives.
Seeing my hand gesture, the greasy haired driver rolled down his mud-stained window.
"Where do you want me t'take you" he said in a sleepy but obsessed tone.
"1100 Pennsylvania Avenue, the Old Post Office" I replied while spitting today's 24th cigarette out of my mouth.
The ride through the streets of Washington was unorthodoxly quiet. No irritating music, no senseless talking, just the sound of the car's motor and the noise of the driver's gear-changing motions.
This gave me the opportunity to inspect the fast-forwarding world around me.
Didn't do me any good, either. It simply reminded me of how much I've come to loathe this place. Same way a convict hates the prison he's been incarcerated in.
The past decades gave birth to this hatred.
I've become part of something that is unofficially unimportant. Yet, it has allowed me to truly see and understand the fiction the we call our world. It's inhabitants are exposed for the first time.
For what I see walking on this planet is a virus. A multiplying plague that feeds off the Earth's life-force so it can survive. Polluting with its bodily waste and overflowing unimportant information. We're crying about problems that we ourselves have caused. We're watching as women get raped and children murdered, only contributing with the pathetic and absurd comment that criminals will be "judged by God". A pack of one hundred commands billions. Most ignorant sheep think they're a part of a "democracy".
I see them as they fight for that last available taxi. I see them filling up buses, pressed on one another, trying to breathe. I see them sleeping on the streets, begging for life but not trying to achieve it.
Lost in my thoughts as I was the cab suddenly stopped, forcing me to place my left hand on the seat in front of me to avoid falling forward. Before I got out, I stopped to listen to the radio that had just been turned on.
"Approximately an hour from now you will be able to listen to President Paul's statements about yesterday's concerning development. Stay tuned for our live broadcast from the White House.
In other news, a man appeared naked in church and att…"
Without either of us saying anything, I pulled out the money amounting to the ride and paid the driver. As I stepped out of the automobile I met the force of that thick, hot wind once more.
My eyes looked up. My facial expression took the form of an apathetic frown, although that is actually the closest it can get to a smile.
The Post Office was in front of me, I started walking towards the front door as I pulled out yet another cigarette.
Either for me or for everybody else, this night would be a long one.