Wants to be controlled
The wind whipped past, tugging at loose strands of hair, carrying with it the scent of metal and…ozone? Above, the sky was a brilliant, almost offensively bright blue. Crumbling concrete towers loomed, their skeletal remains reaching for the heavens. Sunlight glinted off exposed rebar, turning them into temporary, fragile sculptures. A heavy bag dug into a shoulder, but felt too numb to really notice. It was full of what little belongings managed to scrape together before…before everything.
"Another day, another ruin," I mutter, barely audible above the wind. "Seriously, did Dad think I'd just snap back and join the family business? As if! I'd rather eat dirt!" Sigh. "Well, maybe not eat dirt. But you get the idea!"
A faint smirk played on the lips, quickly fading as the stomach grumbled, a rather undignified noise in the dramatic landscape.
"Okay, okay, I hear ya," I whisper to my stomach. "Let's find somewhere to… not die of boredom AND starvation, yeah?" adjusts the heavy bag on my shoulder and keep walking forward.