Song: Ooh Wee, by Mark Ronson, Ghostface Killah, Nate Dogg, Saigon, and Trife / Hear Me Coming, by Yung Joc.
"Where are we going?"
No answer.
Traviz's fidgeted his hands. He was still considering the possibility of running away at the first danger, but the man was ridiculously calm, whistling and humming the same melody. The size difference between them was very, very...
Great. I'm small.
As if the man had heard Traviz's thoughts, he spoke, chuckling, "Don't worry, kid. You'll eventually grow up and be tall as fuck. I guess."
"Whatchu saying?"
"I can walk slower if that's okay."
"No!" Alarmed, Traviz hurried the steps. "I mean, where the fuck you're taking me? I don't like being in the dark."
"Seems like it. But you agreed to follow me, so be a little patient."
"I don't like surprises." Traviz stopped in his tracks. "Whoa, are you a kidnapper?"
"'Course not."
Silence.
"That's all?"
"That's all."
"Ugh."
"Hm. I think this is it."
"What? What?" Traviz looked around.
What?! Waaaait a second!
He had seen that place before! For sure! Damn. The reddish-pink short and crooked buildings, the ultra colored paintings and cobras on every wall, the smoky vapor dancing up the sky... Not the dawn sky, but a freaking hella sunny bright blue sky.
"I've been here!"
The man looked down at the boy, beaming.
Traviz did his best not to trip while walking. His neck was practically turning three-hundred and sixty degrees, up-down-left-right-back, because the number of distractions around him was...
Like, wow...
The crooked buildings had several and several brownish bricks with tall and straight windows, and several and several fire escape stairs, rusty and with plenty of pants, shirts, and underwear hanging and blowing at the steamy air. Apple green fluorescent pink and hot orange cobras were clung across the length of the walls and shop windows and pillars and payphones and benches and (what?) a truck. The large sidewalk was painted, too, but mostly littered with flying pamphlets and newspapers. One of them had red and black signs (was that a fist in the air?). Levion Auditions Next Month. A mini-kid with a super large hat and a green sweater with a golden stamp passed swooping on a swaggy skate, blowing the pamphlet away. It rolled around Traviz's kicks and he shook them, almost bumping into an old black grandpa. His brown cigarette was placed at his missing front teeth.
"Heey, how you doin', ma G?" The man waved to Klaus.
"Doin' good, doin' good."
The old man winked to Traviz and shuffled away.
Weirdo.
"Welcome to East St.Vicent, Traviz," Klaus said, waving at another grandpa.
There was a massive population in that street. BMX bikers jumping and zig-zagging between some very old and long cars, roller cool dudes racing, white scooters dodging from dogs and cats (jeez), kids kicking basketballs, some people kind of his age wearing long and baggy pants, a crazy granny wearing some pajamas, women of all sizes (from little to enormous booty fatty ones) and costumes (from litter workers to terrifying rainbow witches and earrings the size of a pineapple), tall and super skinny men, big-fat men like Klaus, and...
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RED PARALLEL
General FictionHis world was gasoline and spark. From flame to flame the boy carried on his life. This is the life of Traviz O'Brien. He is just a boy, engulfed by the flames of a harsh world. An angry rich father, a crying mother, a cruel friend. Until the very d...
