GREEN
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1382 7.43 KB 88
1382 7.43 KB 88
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>Rain in the city isn't as ugly as people imagine.
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>It's just that it's the cold kind of rain that gets everyone hurrying to where they need to be.
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>As if they weren't already in a hurry.
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>You're already home, so you reach for your pocket and hook your finger around the keychain and reel it out.
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>Your hands don't feel dry but they are. Maybe your mind is confusing cold and wet again, so you sigh.
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>This is probably the 50th time you've sighed on the walk home. You've lost count of the total for today during work so you decided to start again when you finished.
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>The door finally unlocks.
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>That now makes 51.
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>You feel a ton lighter after your outerwear is hung up and shoes taken off. Your socked feet slide into your fluffy slippers though your heel strikes against it as you race to the bathroom.
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>You switch the light on and aim for the sink.
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>Your reflection stops you.
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>You've always tried convincing yourself that you prefer your hair long because you like metal. It's a total lie, and really silly.
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>There will be a day where you can shave your head bald for the first time and see how it would naturally fix itself into a neat shortness.
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>But it has to count for fitness because long hair takes long to comb and clean in the shower. When you cut it, you're probably self-employed, well off, confident, active.
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>Wash your hands already! 52.
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>Go pee, and wash, again.
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>Not long after, you're in the kitchen. You open the fridge and...
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>53
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>Well, you haven't said hi to Rob in at least a week. Now is your chance.
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>You put on only some of your outerwear because the rain has stopped. Could be a stupid decision but you really can't be bothered anymore.
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>It's also just a short walk. You got really lucky with your accommodation because everything is close to you, so, before you know it, Rob waves at you through the window.
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>You return the gesture.
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>"Must've run out of food again. Most people have a set date and time every week where they go and stock up on food. You should try doing that."
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>You begin to question if this is genuine advice because he said this last time you came, verbatim. This is Rob though, he forgets. Also, it's not wrong.
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“Okay, when do you get fresh dairy delivered?”
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>"Tuesdays"
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“Then I'll come every Tuesday.”
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>He smiles.
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>You arrive at the till with everything you need.
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>"You know, this water is usually a dollar, but I'll sell it to you for 99 cents."
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“Thats so kind, but I'll stick to what comes out of my sink.”
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>"You sure? That stuff isn't good for you. I'll lower it to 98 cents."
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>You are baffled.
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“I really don't need it.”
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>"Two for the price of one!"
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“Oh my god. Okay.”
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>"JEW!"
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“What!?”
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>He cackles and it shocks you.
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>"I'm joking, you took it so seriously!"
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>You don't know what the right response would be.
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“Wouldn't you be the jew for selling me bottled water?”
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>He chuckles. "Yeah, maybe. I'll see you next Tuesday."
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“Okay, see you.”
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>You should've asked at what time he gets the dairy delivered. It might not matter though as long as you come in the evenings.
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>Then you realise he gave you two large paper bags, one inside the other, instead of one. He must've been so in the act that he gave away precious stock, for free!
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>You process the interaction further, the distance between each streetlight remains constant now, a pattern.
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>But before you tune out completely, there was a whimpering, and a thud, then some shattering.
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>You stop dead in your tracks.
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>It came from the dumpster alley behind you.
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>The adrenaline banging on your ears prevents you from replaying any of those sounds but it lets through the ringing of glass on a metal screen.
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>Despite this, you want to investigate. This can't be a homeless man.
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>And slowly walking back, trembling, you only focus on the floor and your cover: the groceries.
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>It's not possible for you to imagine what you're going to find because the anticipation of a fight or flight response prevents it in this moment.
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“Hello?”
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>No response. This is going to turn out either disappointing or you'll go back to Rob for more groceries. Or maybe you'll die.
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>Your heart is beating so loud that even if you get a late response, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.
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>Hiding behind your cover, you approach the first dumpster. Its lid is bent.
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>You lift your head to check if there is anything inside. Your eyes follow the streak of light that scatters and illuminates only a pizza box. That is enough for you to determine the source of sound did not come from in there.
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>You turn your head to determine your path and that's when you lay eyes on the sparkling shards of sound and it’s essence surrounding it.
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>The source has to be between the two dumpsters. The certainty changes the thudding in your chest to a throbbing.
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“Hello?”
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>A familiar whimper from exactly where you expected. Maybe it's just a hurt animal, so you drop the bag, step away a little bit and slowly peer over.
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>Woah.
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>It's dirty but you can tell the coat is supposed to be white. The next most noticeable thing is the mane draped over the majority of its body and all of the head. It's long and of different colours but they're so dull that you almost mistook it for being only one. And then the dainty hooves that buried the face almost hid the long, pointy horn sticking out between drooped ears.
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>You don't blink and rub your eyes yet because you want to look at it a little longer before it disappears.
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>You almost forget that it whimpered twice not long ago. There is no fear anymore - only a desire to help and an even stronger one for the situation to be real.
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>You walk over and crouch, your shadow looms over the creature. The quick twitching of its body communicates to you that it noticed, and the flex of its neck is the first instance of it caring to know more about you.
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>The head is raised from the ground, and with it, the mane is hoisted, uncovering a pair of large wings lined with great white feathers.
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>As it lifts its snout to address you, it reveals its eyes. A pale lilac iris encircles the pupil under the shining lens, and then the purple snake constricts the hole. You watched it happen.
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>You stare at each other for a while.
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>...
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>This time, it sighed, and you feel the air escape from its nostrils and hit your neck, then flow around your face and into your hair.
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>It blinked a slow blink and let out a low whinny.
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A stallion?
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>He sharply looked down, as if in shame, even moving his hooves closer to his body. That was the fastest thing he has done so far.
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>You want it to look at you again, so you take both of your hands into each side of his face and manoeuvre his snout into its previous position. It still doesn't look at you.
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>In fact, his eyes are closed. His jaws aren't even tensed up at all. You let go and his head almost hits the floor, but you grab his horn in time for the impact to be minimised.
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>He... fainted?
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>You assume the fact that you grabbed his horn was enough to confirm this simple truth without verbal indications.
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>You want to bring him home.
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>Upon further inspection, his body is actually quite small. You could probably carry it, so you try.
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>With no effort at all, you lift and find out he is almost as light as a feather, like the ones on his wings.
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>But you can't just carry a whole horse home, that would look bizarre!
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>And where would you put him? On your back? And what about your groceries?
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>You turn to look at your groceries, which are thankfully still there.
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>Of course, the extra bag!
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>Now, it's just a matter of doing this in one trip.
by Fish
by Fish
by Fish
by Fish