January 19, 2010
The wind, always the wind, carried the news of a dying home. A failed conglomerate. She'd failed. The wind, south-bound, rolls through the decrepit streets. She braces herself, the left foot, adorned with a lustful maroon heel open in the toe, gilded with a single strap, clamped into position by a sun-baked buckle, searches into the unknown. A small clank is heard. She stops, the whir and chime of mechanical beings fill the sullen environment. She grimaces, shoving her right foot into the unknown, soon deforming the blood-red fabric encasing her small foot. "C-come on! Move dammit!" Her hand, worn with years of hard-work in a small garage, building and repairing various devices, grasps the foreign object, exerting her whole body's power into the embrace. "Oh! Come on!!" Light pours into her prison, fresh air filling the stale grave. The rubble is moved aside. She leans forth, crawling into the light. Her eyes pan the environment, buildings, in rubble. Blood, everywhere. "Damn, looks like I missed the party.." She presses into the warm concrete, the heat pulsating into her bloodstream, she raises herself to full-stance, exposed to the mid-day heat. The wind, blowing through the apocalyptic streets brushes her hair aside. "Unbound.." She mutters as she sets forth into the wasteland.
Mon Jan 14, 2013 9:45 pm