The city was inundated with bright lights; elevated trams, trains and people movers floated above the streets and highways; skyscrapers reached to kingdom come. This was the city we found ourselves in, but we were not sure which city it was specifically.
The city was as real as could be, as there was no other place in the universe we could go. All the power and wealth this city wielded, with the richest living in the penthouses thousands of feet above the city, their heads in the clouds, while the lower classes lived far below, on the dark streets.
Ironically enough, the city itself provided this visual: the stark contrast between the bright buildings and the dark streets and alleyways was quite apparent. As bright as this city appeared, the darkness within it shone even stronger. I, and a few of my friends, found ourselves standing in one of these alleyways, in the mid sector of the city, the busy financial district.
Approximately 8:50 P.M. it was, and as the elevated trams whizzed past us over our heads, we decided to grab something to eat. We had found ourselves in the center of this city with no grasp as to why, but without questioning it, we lived on. We exited the alleyway and walked three blocks north (or south? I forget) to the nearest train station; this train would take us high above the streets to the Eatery District, where the city’s fanciest and most delicious food originated.
As we paid the fare with our tap-to-pay cards, and boarded the train, we immediately became engulfed with a sense of fear, an unknown feeling of uncertainty, of which was to come. The train car we boarded had a listed seated capacity of 35, but only two seats were taken: two young women, looking to be about the same age as us, each holding a beer bottle. Either way, this feeling wasn’t fading.
As the train departed, we saw the large glass skyscrapers and the lights whizzing past us, when, about thirty seconds in, a pillar holding up the tracks cracks and splits. This pillar, located a few meters ahead of our train, collapses and the train in which we stand begins to fall.
The rush of gravity intensifies and life seems to freeze at that moment. It was then when my friends and I quickly pulled out our emergency grappling guns (everyone had them) and shot them up towards the nearest building, with the hopes that it would cling on to a surface, as we were clinging on to our lives.
Luckily, we aimed correctly and the grappling hook attached to a building balcony, not pulling us towards it but allowing us to merely hang, and eventually lowering us softly towards the ground. All through this, the train plummeted towards the ground and hit the street below in a loud BANG! CRASH! The pavement of the street was destroyed, leaving a giant crater in the road. But all I knew was, I lived to see that moment; I knew I was alive, and so were my friends. But our appetite was gone; I was no longer in the mood for that extra-cheese pizza I so craved earlier.
The four of us walked away from the street together, no longer questioning our existence.
Note from the author: Hey guys, hope you enjoyed this quick short work of fiction. I decided to stray from my traditional news/historical analysis-type articles, just for this one time. I’ll have more of my usual content up soon, but if you did like this piece, be sure to applaud and I’ll write more. Chris out.
Chris is a writer and publisher who travels America, and loves doing it. He also loves pizza, video games, and sports, and can tell you a thing or two about each. Follow him on Medium to be informed of new articles.
