Never run

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Screech, Nov 8, 2014.

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  1. Setting:
    It didn't happen in an instant, but one day everyone seemed to wake up in this country asking themselves what happened. Every dog has it's day, it just seemed to be that this dog's day was over, and the sun had set on the horizon. The United States was the new symbol of disrepair. Plagued by economical woes, rising inflation and a reemerging trend of crime and corruption, it had become a shameful husk of it's former self. But it was still alive and kicking, within that pitiful husk.
    The sky was awash with grey as night settled in. Street lights had already flickered on across the neighborhoods and town, and as usual the cold night was virtually soundless- save for the ambience of a highway far off and the occasional car flying through.

    Street side, the casual straggler made their way tight within the warmth of their coats. A single human being waiting for the bus, or a wanderer destined for home. One such straggler carried on through after arriving at a bus stop and continued on until they entered a neighborhood row to row with tiny houses, many of them condemned, or empty. People and kids playing ball in the street paid the stranger no mind. However as this person continued their walk on through, it felt more obvious that the stranger was simply going nowhere in particular. Or so it seemed. Once surely out of sight, they turned in between two houses and seemed to disappear.
    The stranger was bundled up so it was particularly difficult for one to see a hint of their face, especially in the growing dark, although they were of short stature.
    #1 Screech, Nov 8, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Nov 9, 2014
  2. 'Hey! That's cheating!' The little boy glowered furiously as he hopped on the spot, his spindly arms outstretched and his fingers clawing thin-air as the older boy - no, young man, rather - laughed tauntingly. A grimy basketball was held aloft within the cradle of the man's twigish digits, just out of reach of the child. 'C'mon Tommy, don't be such a prick! You're such an arsehole, give it back!'

    'Do you kiss mum with that mouth?' Tommy jeered, twisting away to bounce the basket ball at his feet once, twice, three - the boy lunged. Tommy dodged right, the ball bouncing high as his palm slammed it against the craggy slab of cracked tar. The boy yelled as he tripped, sprawling, and skittered awkwardly as he fumbled to find his feet again. A mob of young onlookers laughed at the display, and Tommy whistled lowly. 'So close, little brother.'

    The boy spin to face his elder brother, positively fuming as Tommy began to dribble - the ball bouncing rapidly with a hollow, rhythmic thud-thud-thud. He grinned wickedly, daring his sibling to challenge him as he started towards the hoop affixed to a lamp poll - rusted and a little lop-sided. A few supporting bolts were missing from it's fame, and Tommy was sure if the abused ring of cheap steel copped one more slam-dunk it'd be history. The netting was long since dead and gone. 'C'mon Petey, are you playing or not?'

    'Don't call me that!' the boy screeched, rushing the taller male. He made another wild grab for the ball, buckling around Tommy's hip, but the object was whisked easily from his reach. The basketball streaked through the air, twirling as it went, and the hoop shuddered and creaked as it found it's way home.

    'What? Petey?'

    'Yes! Don't call me that!' Peter hollered over his shoulder as he darted off to fetch the ball, rolling and jerking it's way over the uneven ground. Tommy rolled his eyes as he pushed his tawny bangs out of his face, his gaze flickering to his right, drawn by a small flurry of motion. A lone figure shuffled along the sidewalk, smothered beneath an astonishing number of coats. A speculative crease folded his brow as he watched, and he muttered to himself. 'What the hell...?'

    Usually he would have dismissed such behavior - in this day and age oddities were somewhat a normality, though the nineteen year old knew no different, for such was the world in which he'd been raised. He'd been about to turn away, resume tormenting Peter, when the figure detoured off the rough cement path. This wouldn't have bothered him either, had the coat-clad form not slunk off up the side of his own dwelling. Tommy's frown deepened, and he moved hesitantly towards the path.

    'Hey!' he called out, craning his neck for a better view. The figure, however - whom he assumed was a woman, simply given the stoutness - was nowhere to be seen. 'Hey, lady! What are you doing?'
    #2 Thimerri, Nov 14, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: Nov 14, 2014
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