I shot out of the underground into the polluted air. Imposing blocks and no blue sky. Pointlessly infinite streets. Empty, endless parking lots.
"The gray block left of the gas station," he had said. I found the neglected building just after leaving the tram. A few hundred meters trek at most.
I should have entered the shabby office. Instead, I still stumbled toward it, slower than a sleeping snail. Ten minutes? An hour? Each step sucked from my life. Time lost any meaning.
The whole suburb ensnared me as if trying to devour my unfortunate soul. A minute, discreet web.
YOU ARE READING
Legend of the Modern Age
SpiritualLong ago, Ciel had decided: he wanted nothing to do with humans. Adept at making plans that never come to fruition, he sold his soul to leave them (or so he hoped). Long ago, Raphael had decided: life wanted nothing to do with him. Armed with a bunc...
