I hate Life
The sun was setting. Far to the east, threatening black clouds arosefrom the fumes of pollution from the several smoke stacks towering over thecity. The streets were pock marked and dented with the recent shower ofacid rain. Hot boiling steam from the sewers made the temperature of daymuch hotter than it really was. Just outside the borders of the city is alake covered with muck and crude oil spills. Death and despair floatedaimlessly on the surface of the unhospitable body of water. Corpses of deadfish, seagulls... bobbed just under the rim of the black slime. The blackslime sensing fresh prey, extended it's corrupt and revolting tendrilsfarther...until it caught another unsuspecting victim, choking and
Looking one last time to makesure the shop was in order, Phil locked up the store and left. Smog wasstill thick in the air causing him to cough repeatedly. Yet few doors were still open, desperate for any last minutecustomers. Feeling much better Phil continueddown the street, heaving a sigh of relief. He stopped for amoment to catch his breath. Most shops were already abandoned, finished for theday. Few were fortunateenough to own automobiles so they could avoid the cold dangerous streetsand dark alleyways. Looking at Phil with his characteristic limp, slouched posture andbulging belly one might think him an extremely unathletic person. Phil, though by all meansnot an old man, showed signs of premature aging. The tall dark figurestudied the pharmacist a while longer before trailing him. Stores got ready to lock up and street lights were turned onto aid the bread winners, so they may travel safely. Remembering his air filter in his pocket, Philgingerly took it out and put it on. Finally done, he flicked off the lights andrummaged through his pockets for his keys. He failed to notice a dark shadow spying on him as he counted the bills he had earnedtoday, and put it away into his black leather wallet.
Common topics in this essay:
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Looking Phil,
Anderson Anderson,
Feeling Phil,
black slime,
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