Abe felt queasy as he walked along Main Central Avenue 8, away from the Money Pit and the horror of the Designated Activities Areas, focusing on the sanctity of an Underland Sleep Centere. The Dissosciater he'd taken at Mildred's had left him unable to focus with any kind of certainty. All the forlon faces in Mildred's danced about behind his eyes, disconnected from any form or context... he tried to keep his movement in one straight direction..... the sheer bloody regret of their expressions, the sorrow, quickly melted into calm nothingness as they disconnected their burden and left......
He descended the dirty pseudo-steel wrought staircase to the Top Deck, the strung out first level of the mass of floors beneath the roof. He needed solace. As soon as walked a few feet away from the bottom of the staircase he could feel the darkness, despite the solid white hum of the pseduo-lights. People were more spread out down here on the thin streets lined with vendors hawking food and daytime relief to the office workers, all now closed. There were two lit-up wide night vendors at every second intersection. He knew he'd find a sleep centere if he just kept moving. He let the Dissocsiator guide his body there......................
No comments:
Post a Comment