6.5.13

A Glimpse of Extremes: Part one



A Glimpse of Extremes: Part one
            I walked along the shoreline, with the black water lapping at my feet. A soda can washed up in front of me, and I stepped over it. Hypodermic needles crunched underneath my feet, but I made sure to not step on the needle point of any of them. The sky was black above me, and the water black below me.
            There were people on the shoreline reusing some of the needles they found on the shore, some of them covered in sores, all of them emaciated. I, while not well fed, was better fed than them. And that’s just because my family was “rich” and could afford basic food for a healthy one meal a day.
            I don’t know why I had come here. I hated the view, the people disgusted me, and I had a chance of getting stabbed by a stray needle sticking up from the ground. And on top of all that, it was depressing since it brought me back to better days. Days where I could walk along the beach and the water would be blue as the sky was, the beach was fairly clean save a few cans, and I didn’t have to wear a breathing mask.
            Thinking of the breathing mask made me remember how uncomfortable it was, and I adjusted it. I also thought about the good times here, when my parents would take me to this beach to play and swim with my friends, and didn’t have a good chance of dying. I turned around, and briskly walked back to my bike.
            As I got to my bike, I remembered how much I missed my car. But they had been outlawed five years ago in order to control the pollution, to no avail. Smoke still filled the sky, and the Earth still slowly killed us in its own sickness as a persons’ immune system will purge a virus. As I rode away, I missed the days before the world started to turn on us, before we had driven the Earth itself to try to purify itself of humans by our own folly.

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