You made it onto the platform, knocking over an old woman with a funny hat. You paid her no heed. She gave you the finger. Your retaliation was cut short when your partner pulled you away by the arm.
"Come! Hurry! The cloud is waking as we speak,"
"But how about you?"
The hand clutching your arm suddenly let go, leaving you reeling in its absence.
"I must stay. The city needs me. But it needs you more," you look away, ignoring the way the sidewalk blurred.
The chanting of the crowd is swallowed by the hiss of the engines.
YOU ARE READING
The Cloud Is Waking
FantasyThe future came. But the future is the future only in name. A spired city is suspended in the sky. And humanity has somehow forgotten why.
