The Elementals
With one quick movement you leap from the tiles into the abyss. Your hair whips around you as you fall further down. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours, possibly even days when you hit the ground with a painful thud.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
You wake up with a startle, sweating and gasping for breath. It takes you a moment to realize that it wasn’t real. When you catch your breath your turn off the alarm. The sheets are soaked. Damn. You just changed them last night. You wrack your brain trying to figure out why this is happening.
A week ago the block lost power for 24 hours.Sure, it was a little scary, but nothing a few candles and some canned food couldn’t fix. So why since then have you been dreaming of this ominous black smoke? Had it been a one time dream, that would have been fine, but as you sit there in a pool of your own sweat you begin to wonder, will it ever stop?
You begin to get ready for work, pulling your hair back into a ponytail and slipping into a green polo and some kahki pants. You decide to make today an easy day and just put some eyeliner and mascara on. Within no time, you’re at the cafe. You walk in and see Sybil, a coworker and friend, leaning against the counter.
“Hey, Farah. What’s wrong?” she asks as she takes a pastry out of a glass covered display case.
You shake your head in response.
“Bad dream again?” she says, handing the pastry on a blue plate to Bill, a regular sitting at the counter.
You nod and sigh as you slouch over the counter next to him.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about your situation and I think I know just the thing! Jeremy and I went to this old, refurbished mill the other day. Inside there was a whole marketplace. They had vinyl records, boho-chic boutiques, and an apothacary! Like, good old fashioned herbs. I think that if you talk to someone there, they may have something to help you.” Sybil fawned over her memories there.
Bill chuckled, “Quack doctors running around shoving vanilla beans down everyone’s throat. You want some real help, you go to the bookstore. If you don’t know what it is, that’s the place to start. Do your own research before you take the word of some sick being who thinks crushed up daisy tea is going to help you.”, his beard moving with every word.
Sibyl shrugged, then went to go take the order of a couple who just sat down at a table in the corner. Bill nodded his head at you as he got up from his chair, leaving the same amount of money on the counter he did every morning. You continued on with your shift, greeting customers as happily as you can all the while thinking about the black smoke. At the end of your shift at three you pick up your bag, shoving your apron inside of it and walk out the door. The sun had just started to get low in the cool, autumn sky. You decide you’ve had enough. You can’t just sit around and do nothing.
Where do you want to go?
BEEP BEEP BEEP
You wake up with a startle, sweating and gasping for breath. It takes you a moment to realize that it wasn’t real. When you catch your breath your turn off the alarm. The sheets are soaked. Damn. You just changed them last night. You wrack your brain trying to figure out why this is happening.
A week ago the block lost power for 24 hours.Sure, it was a little scary, but nothing a few candles and some canned food couldn’t fix. So why since then have you been dreaming of this ominous black smoke? Had it been a one time dream, that would have been fine, but as you sit there in a pool of your own sweat you begin to wonder, will it ever stop?
You begin to get ready for work, pulling your hair back into a ponytail and slipping into a green polo and some kahki pants. You decide to make today an easy day and just put some eyeliner and mascara on. Within no time, you’re at the cafe. You walk in and see Sybil, a coworker and friend, leaning against the counter.
“Hey, Farah. What’s wrong?” she asks as she takes a pastry out of a glass covered display case.
You shake your head in response.
“Bad dream again?” she says, handing the pastry on a blue plate to Bill, a regular sitting at the counter.
You nod and sigh as you slouch over the counter next to him.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about your situation and I think I know just the thing! Jeremy and I went to this old, refurbished mill the other day. Inside there was a whole marketplace. They had vinyl records, boho-chic boutiques, and an apothacary! Like, good old fashioned herbs. I think that if you talk to someone there, they may have something to help you.” Sybil fawned over her memories there.
Bill chuckled, “Quack doctors running around shoving vanilla beans down everyone’s throat. You want some real help, you go to the bookstore. If you don’t know what it is, that’s the place to start. Do your own research before you take the word of some sick being who thinks crushed up daisy tea is going to help you.”, his beard moving with every word.
Sibyl shrugged, then went to go take the order of a couple who just sat down at a table in the corner. Bill nodded his head at you as he got up from his chair, leaving the same amount of money on the counter he did every morning. You continued on with your shift, greeting customers as happily as you can all the while thinking about the black smoke. At the end of your shift at three you pick up your bag, shoving your apron inside of it and walk out the door. The sun had just started to get low in the cool, autumn sky. You decide you’ve had enough. You can’t just sit around and do nothing.
Where do you want to go?