Shore Stories
Fresh outta hospice, ready to roll...!
Nothing had changed much, spare the colour of the uniforms. Guards were at every corner, silent but watchful with weapons at their sides. I wondered, noting their tentative disposition: 'what have I slept through?'
The same bustle and rush of the city streets of Junon, packed with tourists, shoppers, and locals. I moved against a crowd of people migrating into one of the most advanced, well-staffed hospitals in the world, St. Mary Hayes of Junon. I had seen too much of it. I escaped the crowd and moved out from under the shadow of the overpass and into natural light. It was a shock to the senses after so long of being indoors, holed away in one room for gods know how long. I shaded my eyes from the harsh sunlight, and looked off into the skyline.
Something was missing.
The gargantuan cannon attached to the harbor had been torn out from its steel supports anchored into the cliffside. Junon was no longer cast in the shadow of its magnificent weapon and trademark. The coastline seemed incomplete and wrong. And the cannon, which served as a resting place for many good and bad memories alike, had fallen, like me, into the void of non-existence, taking all of my memories with it.
...Too many. I felt my stomach sink and my head reeled a bit. Perhaps I wasn't as well as I had claimed when I demanded my own release. But I wouldn't go back, I'd sooner hole up in an inn and sleep off the feeling than be laid up in the hospital for days more. That, of course, would require currency, of which I had none. My options were less than few. Passing out on the street was not an option, either.
Just as the world began to lurch, I felt a hand on my shoulder. The sensation startled me, but offered a momentary distraction from the dizziness. I wasn't used to my senses being so frayed and scattered, every bit of information coming in choppy waves. Even still, I stepped away from the touch almost instantly. It felt strange and awkward, and held no comfort for me.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine," I lied, rubbing at my temple. I looked away to avoid the skeptical look he was probably casting at me. "Where are we headed?"
"It's only a little further."
I fell into step alongside him, examining everything and everyone as we went. A few passers-by glanced at me strangely, probably writing me off as a drunkard. My pace was shaky and uneven. I had lost a lot of weight, muscle and coordination during my sleep. My body's weakness was growing more irritating and apparent by the moment.
As much as I hated being supervised and saw it as another sentence much akin to the hospital, I was thankful when we stepped into the foyer of a small but comfortable house, nestled far back from the busy streets and shopping centres of the city.
The door creaked as it was shut. I took a look around. There was dust and clutter on every surface, attesting to the absence of its inhabitant. There were a few personal touches, some pictures on the wall and a vase of wilted flowers set on the table, but mostly it was bare, spare for a few pieces of furniture, a television, a computer, and a rather comfortable looking couch, which I imagined would be my bed for the next few nights... or... however long the stay must last. I would work to make it as short as possible.
It needs an edit, but I'm kinda in a hurry.
I need to include a lot of little subtle information... maybe next time ^^;
I'll fink with it later.... meh.
Nothing had changed much, spare the colour of the uniforms. Guards were at every corner, silent but watchful with weapons at their sides. I wondered, noting their tentative disposition: 'what have I slept through?'
The same bustle and rush of the city streets of Junon, packed with tourists, shoppers, and locals. I moved against a crowd of people migrating into one of the most advanced, well-staffed hospitals in the world, St. Mary Hayes of Junon. I had seen too much of it. I escaped the crowd and moved out from under the shadow of the overpass and into natural light. It was a shock to the senses after so long of being indoors, holed away in one room for gods know how long. I shaded my eyes from the harsh sunlight, and looked off into the skyline.
Something was missing.
The gargantuan cannon attached to the harbor had been torn out from its steel supports anchored into the cliffside. Junon was no longer cast in the shadow of its magnificent weapon and trademark. The coastline seemed incomplete and wrong. And the cannon, which served as a resting place for many good and bad memories alike, had fallen, like me, into the void of non-existence, taking all of my memories with it.
...Too many. I felt my stomach sink and my head reeled a bit. Perhaps I wasn't as well as I had claimed when I demanded my own release. But I wouldn't go back, I'd sooner hole up in an inn and sleep off the feeling than be laid up in the hospital for days more. That, of course, would require currency, of which I had none. My options were less than few. Passing out on the street was not an option, either.
Just as the world began to lurch, I felt a hand on my shoulder. The sensation startled me, but offered a momentary distraction from the dizziness. I wasn't used to my senses being so frayed and scattered, every bit of information coming in choppy waves. Even still, I stepped away from the touch almost instantly. It felt strange and awkward, and held no comfort for me.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine," I lied, rubbing at my temple. I looked away to avoid the skeptical look he was probably casting at me. "Where are we headed?"
"It's only a little further."
I fell into step alongside him, examining everything and everyone as we went. A few passers-by glanced at me strangely, probably writing me off as a drunkard. My pace was shaky and uneven. I had lost a lot of weight, muscle and coordination during my sleep. My body's weakness was growing more irritating and apparent by the moment.
As much as I hated being supervised and saw it as another sentence much akin to the hospital, I was thankful when we stepped into the foyer of a small but comfortable house, nestled far back from the busy streets and shopping centres of the city.
The door creaked as it was shut. I took a look around. There was dust and clutter on every surface, attesting to the absence of its inhabitant. There were a few personal touches, some pictures on the wall and a vase of wilted flowers set on the table, but mostly it was bare, spare for a few pieces of furniture, a television, a computer, and a rather comfortable looking couch, which I imagined would be my bed for the next few nights... or... however long the stay must last. I would work to make it as short as possible.
It needs an edit, but I'm kinda in a hurry.
I need to include a lot of little subtle information... maybe next time ^^;
I'll fink with it later.... meh.