“It was really freezing in the streets, and there was a little rain to make it worst. Only my coat couldn’t handle the cold.
He told me his name. Hank. I guess he’s not a complete wilson, maybe I’ve heard his name twice or three times… but this was not so important. Now I had to channel something to Jimmy, and I had to be in the Jendal’s stall at 8 pm and it was 7:55 pm. With a transit like that we have, it’s better go somewhere by foot instead getting a cab. Even a hover is slow in the aerial lanes nowadays. Unless you have that brand new hovecrafts that can waft real high to use the new airy lanes available. That’s the fate of people who have plenty of money, the toff: having their houses higher, higher and higher, while the most part of the population lives in the surface, bogged down in the toff’s gray garbage, squeezing in these narrow streets and tiny one-roomed-flats, being blinded by these damn neon lights, looking for a trick to get some dirty money. Some of ‘em have an intelligence above par for the rest of people and can live a little bit better, like Joe and me. But the majority is all fucked up.”
“High tech / Low life #4”. 2013. By Fábio Vermelho
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