the benefits of meandering rubbish


I sat quietly in the blue lines. There wasn’t a lot of silence right then. My cloud was floating on its leash. Not a lot of noise either. Just some wiry sounds as the inky strings of clothes dragged on the floor of the blue bounce machine. Its name was a little disgusting, I know.

Some random people were fly-walking their clouds too, not being too careful where they were bumping and crashing against the lighting. They were unfriendly snobs from the elite finishing school- for boys and girls- that was a few blocks down, near the starred chained hotels, in the city’s south.

My book blurred again. And again. Everything did, in round grey splatters. The hat I wore dipped and swayed and dipped again.  At least it didn’t look like an upside down fish bubble.

That bubble-fish snobs head turned a little and pulled her cloud away from mine. I snapped.

I only remembered later the sound of screaming  words, but not their meaning. I sat back down and continued to read.

The extra-dimensional one began adding in blue- more blue- did it have some weird affinity with blue? everything was always always- anyway- this blue was different from the lines that made up our bodies, and linked us in common people-hood, those snobs and I. That blue, honestly, was more splotty. It was positively splatty, it was.

And then the tents turned red and orange- red and orange, I ask you! And then the fragmented pastel yellow that was supposed to be light! The snobs and I were united in disdain. I mean I may be a 2D string character- but I am blue inked. Those 4D people, seriously! Pick up a pen and think they can change the world.

About theshadowsofthenight

An amateur writer and amateur artist :)
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