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"Rusted Freedom" by Lawless Fighter

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The Walk light blinked white. A dozen or so young men and women clogged the corners and began a methodic march from one dreary sign post to the next. A shriek, two gunshots, a young woman clad in a sleeveless fleece coat fell to the ground. No one stopped, so it goes.

...

The smog that filled the atmosphere of this great industrial nightmare was thick and bland, like the color of putrid bile seeping from the carcess of a dead animal. Point of fact that's exactly what it was. This city once held host to gleaming steel monoliths and shimmering roadways. Important people used to travel from half the world away just to see the immensity of the great metroplois. It beat with a single purpose and everything in it worked in unison. But that time has long passed and the city was dead. The whole city was decaying and being decomposed by all the maggots that still thrived there as individuals.

...

Complete anarchy was the reward for complete freedom. Everyone could do what they wanted when they wanted, run, jump, play, work. However, this came at a price. It meant also that murder, rape, theft were legal as well. Anyone, anything, any time, that is true freedom.

...

Another street corner, another wave of people. Someone was stabbed in the middle of the road. So it goes. No one stopped, no one ever did. The sun was sinking over the buildings and as the last pale sunbeams pierced offwhite glass the city took on a rusty hue that covered everyone in showers of stained steel.

Another street corner.

The walk light blinked white. . .

(The "..." signify where i have taken protions of the story out seeing as most readers seem to have trouble reading lengthy stories)



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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/16885/104649 on Friday August 29th, 2008 05:06 PM

Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)