freestyle fiction
by Joshua Coffman
Rats everywhere. Gross smells lingered in the air, it seemed like at
least two distinct smells kind of merged together, sometimes really
strong. It was day time. The sunlight pierced through a smog of sorts.
You could see rays of light burning their way through the clouds of poop
fog.
Small children, barefoot played football in a small clearing. There was
some grass, a tiny bit of green in a world of orangish hues. Every once
in a while you could make out a glimmer in the sunlight coming from the
sides of the buildings. They were the security cameras.
On this corner, every few hours, a giant man with long dark hair would
stand up from his porch chair and walk to the street light brandishing a
large broadsword only to look both up and down the avenue and return to
his throne. It was a kingly throne, a relic of sorts, it was a handmade
rocking chair with a worn blue cushion.
The security cameras watched the giant without blinking.
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