An echoed roar far in the distance snaps him out of his trance and he looks up to find he has made it into the city. The buildings are more compressed together, leaving less opportunity for daylight. The highway he is walking on is full of cars, many of them having been in accidents. A few times his boots walked over broken glass, making a nice change from the buzzing in his ears and the low, slow humming of his voice.
He turns onto a smaller road with less light than the highway, but still enough to see the details of the shops on either side. There is a pizza shop, then a coffee shop, then a restaurant, then a clothing store. He barely looks as he passes by the dirty display windows. Some shop doors are open, others look untouched. Aside from weeds, this part of the city still look decent.
As he continues into the city, there is one particular shop ahead where the sun still reaches the large window. He mechanically makes his way towards it and gazes through the large window to see a busy shop full of customers. He focuses on two men talking at a high table near the window, coffee cups in hand.
"C'mon Eliot." The young man laughs, "There's got to be some way you can help me?"
"You knew the answer before you even asked, doofus. My company isn't right for you. Besides, you haven't even studied in the field. What do you possibly hope to achieve there?" Eliot replies.
The young man grunts and sips coffee.
"I have writing experience. That transitions anywhere! Despite what you and dad think, I haven't wasted the last five years traveling. I've written countless articles, that you have read, mind you!" He says.
Eliot smiles at him and sips some coffee.
"How about this? I will talk to a buddy of mine who works for The Chicago Tribune." Eliot says.
"Wow! Heck, that'd be great, man."
"In return however, do us both a favor and clean up that face of yours."
"What are you talking about? I look great." He smirks.
"Yeah, sure. Joey, professionals shave." Eliot chuckles.
Joey rubs his thick-bearded chin slowly.
"It's been there for so long, I'm afraid to see what I look like without it."
"Anything's better than looking like a Sasquatch." Eliot laughs louder than the conversations in the shop.
"Hey!" Joey laughs with him.
A cloud passes over the sun and shades the inside of the coffee shop. The memory is broken and all is silent. The cloud passes and he finds himself looking at a reflection of himself. His hair is long and disheveled. His thick, long beard shows the face of a broken man. Now he is the one that looks like a Sasquatch.
Eyes downcast, he makes his way into the shop and removes his backpack. Carefully this time, he unclasps it and pulls out a device, which he places on the high table. He barely skips a beat as he puts the backpack back on and continues down the road, deeper into the city.
There is a low and long rumbling coming from somewhere inside the city, but he ignores it. The buzzing in his ears is louder, a mix of children playing and men laughing.
"Concentrate." He faintly hears her say.
YOU ARE READING
Retribution
Short Story"After years of hiding, it was time to face his past and put an end to the thing that ruined everything" The city is destroyed, there is no one in sight, and he is losing his mind. What happened to the city and why is he going back?
