Sloth (slothful) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-01-09 13:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | pride, sloth |
Who: Sloth and Pride
Where: Downtown somewhere
When: Friday, lunch hour
Rating: PG
The loud streets of New York have always been a source of chaos, but no tourist was more confused this afternoon than Sloth. A fairly diminutive girl, with round cheeks and big sleepy eyes, she was having trouble seeing over the crowd of suits and skirts. These were not her people: too many were workaholics, driven to advance their careers. And many of them were talking into little boxes... are those tape recorders? Sloth had to wonder if the people of this century were obsessed with their voices. Or maybe they just needed to record their thoughts?
The taxis were loud and the colors garish, and she wondered if she might have overslept. Fashion had certainly done a 360. Not a floral top in sight. She wondered if her sisters liked the change. Oh, right...
Meandering down the sidewalk, she thought of her siblings. She needed to find someone familiar, someone to get her up to date. And there was a reason she had awoken so abruptly. An unkempt man handing out newspapers caught her eye, and she lazily took one from his hands. He also wasn't a follower of hers. She could sense the man's dedication to his three jobs, his shame at living off hand-outs, his plans to make a better life. What happened to my America? she wondered, flipping through the paper, And is it too late to fix it?