Emerging from the concrete undergrowth, all I can see are the lights. The unrelenting, sickly, glowing lights. Like the buzzing of incorrigible flies, the hum of their ill-used power pervades my senses. Completely intolerable, I escape from it; steal into the semi-darkness and try to find solace anywhere in this awful, abominable, synthetic metropolis.
But no. Wherever I turn I'm assaulted with the stench of human filth - and I don't mean their excretion. The malodor of excitement, adrenaline and lust rolls off of their skin in waves, slightly dissipated by the polluted air, but only slightly.
Absently I look about me at the provocative human sights and wonder why the fetor didn't bother them. Do they not smell it? Does it not make them nauseous? Especially when they pack themselves into those tight, sweaty places with all the loud noise and endless movement that seems to be on every street corner.
Disgusted, I wheel away from it and attempt, once again, to unearth a haven amidst the squalor. Heedless of the marshy mire beneath my paws, I flit through the miscellaneous debris that litters the way.
Food...
An upside of those stinky bipeds however could be the inordinate amount of food that they waste; it saves me from having to choke down the bloated, matted, and occasionally posthumous rats that infest this city alongside the two-legs. Of course, said food is also usually posthumous and increasingly so, unless consumed within an adequate time period, which is in itself quite a feat considering the constant, stifling humidity that hangs in the air, sucking the
moisture out of anything that dates not be dehydrated and rasping. The greedy humidity gives everything a spongy and sweaty texture, however beggars, as they say, can not be choosers and consequently, the fetid "meat" slowly and agonisingly passed my teeth and crawled down my throat.
Refusing to choke lest I have to taste what I just finally managed to ingest, I wipe my whiskers semi-clean (cleaner than before by any means), cast a stray (excuse the pun) "meow" into the night and continue my nightly misadventures.
Emerging From the Concrete Undergrowth by Bananafishh
Fiction » General Rated: K+, English, Adventure, Words: 365, Published: 2/20/2012