Chapter 2
Well, well, well, what have we here? Finally a new chapter of the highly anticipated (by me) Emobot story. It's about Alex. I hope it doesn't waste several minutes of your life. Here it is:
Ticket: check. Gloves: check. Backpack: check and double check. Courage: well… she was working on that. Alex was ready. Her hand shook as she lifted the window pane and stepped out onto the fire escape. It was raining – great… She had to be careful, one misstep would mean disaster. The moon and the streetlights provided significant amounts of light. Alex was sure she could navigate the tangle of streets to get to the Greyhound station.
She wondered:
Was $50 enough? It was all she could scrounge up. As she gazed at the map of offered destinations, she tried to remember. Which city would be the best destination? There was New Haverford with its damp evenings filling the delightful town square with fog. She detested fog. New Bedlamhamtown had a field that she visited when young. With a flourish she had frolicked among the wild tulips that drank in the Sun that day. Strange. She remembered the Tulips and the bright cloudless sky, but other details escaped her: the smell, the feel of heat on her skin, the wind pushing her dark hair. Was it a humid day? Did the sweat trickle down her tan legs, catching the pollen, as she raced by? What was at the end of that field? It seemed to go on forever.
She settled on a medium sized town with a thriving sock industry. She heard that young girls of ill repute could gain employment there with very few questions asked.
OK. Head straight for .2 miles along Oak Ave. Turn right at 17th Ave. Veer right onto Smith Blvd. Continue until you see the Greyhound Station. It was simple, wasn’t it? Several hours from now Alex would start her new life. The sock industry was full of excitement and innovation. Surely she would advance quickly.
The street lights dim and the rain starts to pour. Alex is soaked. She swore off umbrellas ever since… She wouldn’t even touch them. Their handles, automatic pistols that shafted and spread like some winged demon. How terrible! She can still hear the shudder of the nylon. Out comes the map and the directions…to double check. She can barely read it. Alex is hopelessly lost. Unbeknownst to her, actions were already set in motion. Cogs and gears were turning, grinding their teeth. Poor Alex, a mere pawn in some twisted chess match. Checkmate.
On she stumbles, her vision blurred by rain. She has no idea where she is, where she’s going, where she’ll end up. Her sweater grows heavier as the wool soaks up rain. She barely notices the cold, tries to cover her backpack, its contents the only thing of importance to her.
She ignores the buzzing, the ache that drives her forward. With confidence she strides past fences and trash cans and abandoned streetlights. A tangled maze of pavement gives way to a singular path. A shining beacon calls and will her this way and that. At the end of the path, trees closing in all around, sits a metal man. He glances up at Alex, unstraps his guitar, and begins to play the most heart-wrenching song she has ever heard.
Next Episode:
Metal Man, Metal Maniac!
Ticket: check. Gloves: check. Backpack: check and double check. Courage: well… she was working on that. Alex was ready. Her hand shook as she lifted the window pane and stepped out onto the fire escape. It was raining – great… She had to be careful, one misstep would mean disaster. The moon and the streetlights provided significant amounts of light. Alex was sure she could navigate the tangle of streets to get to the Greyhound station.
She wondered:
Was $50 enough? It was all she could scrounge up. As she gazed at the map of offered destinations, she tried to remember. Which city would be the best destination? There was New Haverford with its damp evenings filling the delightful town square with fog. She detested fog. New Bedlamhamtown had a field that she visited when young. With a flourish she had frolicked among the wild tulips that drank in the Sun that day. Strange. She remembered the Tulips and the bright cloudless sky, but other details escaped her: the smell, the feel of heat on her skin, the wind pushing her dark hair. Was it a humid day? Did the sweat trickle down her tan legs, catching the pollen, as she raced by? What was at the end of that field? It seemed to go on forever.
She settled on a medium sized town with a thriving sock industry. She heard that young girls of ill repute could gain employment there with very few questions asked.
OK. Head straight for .2 miles along Oak Ave. Turn right at 17th Ave. Veer right onto Smith Blvd. Continue until you see the Greyhound Station. It was simple, wasn’t it? Several hours from now Alex would start her new life. The sock industry was full of excitement and innovation. Surely she would advance quickly.
The street lights dim and the rain starts to pour. Alex is soaked. She swore off umbrellas ever since… She wouldn’t even touch them. Their handles, automatic pistols that shafted and spread like some winged demon. How terrible! She can still hear the shudder of the nylon. Out comes the map and the directions…to double check. She can barely read it. Alex is hopelessly lost. Unbeknownst to her, actions were already set in motion. Cogs and gears were turning, grinding their teeth. Poor Alex, a mere pawn in some twisted chess match. Checkmate.
On she stumbles, her vision blurred by rain. She has no idea where she is, where she’s going, where she’ll end up. Her sweater grows heavier as the wool soaks up rain. She barely notices the cold, tries to cover her backpack, its contents the only thing of importance to her.
She ignores the buzzing, the ache that drives her forward. With confidence she strides past fences and trash cans and abandoned streetlights. A tangled maze of pavement gives way to a singular path. A shining beacon calls and will her this way and that. At the end of the path, trees closing in all around, sits a metal man. He glances up at Alex, unstraps his guitar, and begins to play the most heart-wrenching song she has ever heard.
Next Episode:
Metal Man, Metal Maniac!
posted by Peter at 2:09 PM
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