<!DOCTYPE html> <html> <head> <meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> <title>My Story - Home</title> <link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../stylesheet/bootstrap.css"> </head> <nav class="navbar navbar-inverse navbar-fixed-top"> <div class="container"> <div class="navbar-header"> <a class="navbar-brand">My Story</a> </div> <ul class="nav navbar-nav navbar-right"> <li> <a href="../index.html">Back to home</a> </li> <li> <a href="../contact.html">Contact</a> </li> </ul> </div> </nav> <body class="container"> <div class="row"> <div class="col-md-12 well"> <h2>Momentum</h2> <p>by Hannah Hunt</p> </div> <div class="col-md-12" > <p>Heat presses against you as you wander the crowded streets. Bodies shuffle this way and that, all shouting and shoving to get closer to the vendors at the edges of the crowd. You wipe a hand across your forehead and sigh. Today is going to be tough, and you are just getting started. Levi said he would be out here soon, that he would meet you on the corner of Renolli so you could finally get started working the streets. Only he is nowhere in sight. It is time to make a decision.</p> </div> <div class="col-md-12 well"> <h2>Stay and wait on the corner another five minutes.</h2> </div> <div class="col-md-12" > <p>You lean against the building, watching as people dash back, chasing down vendors for clothing or food, waving their trades madly beneath the desert sun. Someone’s shouting from a block down. It’s the man who owns the gelato store you and Levi would always stop at after school during the year. The man busts from the door, racing after someone. “Thief! Thief!” You’re curious, if not a little sympathetic as the man races after a slender figure in tattered clothes. You...</p> </div> <div class="col-md-12 well"> <h2>Stay and wait for Levi.</h2> </div> <div class="col-md-12" > <p>The crowds keep moving, and you catch a few flashes of the crimson Service jackets as they race after a young boy about half an hour later. Someone screaming about a thief. An hour goes by, and you decide to leave your spot on the wall, walking with the crowd. Trinkets from the vendors set up on the streets catch your eye every so often, and you stop to admire the wares from Insa, the Moroccan nation to the west. Eventually you get hungry and circle back to the gelato shop. The owner should be back by now and citrus sounds like just the right snack before heading home for dinner. The place smells sweet. The sharp scents of lemon and orange citrus stinging your nose as you approach the counter. You stand there, trying to decide which flavor to get for a minute or two before the bell chimes at your back. You turn to watch the pudgy shop keeper slide in. His face is a beaten red and he’s huffing, but otherwise he looks fairly well put together. “What’ll it be?” he asks, stepping behind the counter. You point to a flavor, and he hands you a small cup of the citrus gelato over the counter. “Have a nice day!” You nod and turn to walk out, but stop. Taking the gelato just like the boy had doesn’t feel quite right.</p> </div> <div class="col-md-12 well"> <h2>Leave anyway.</h2> </div> <div class="col-md-12" > <p>You walk out of the shop and find a quiet alley to sit in and eat, one behind the building so the man can’t claim that you’re a second thief. You cross your legs, watching the crowds walk past. No one notices you crouched in the shadows of the steel and glass framed buildings on the narrow lane. You keep an eye open for Levi, but find nothing. Finishing your gelato you decide to head home. You’ve wasted enough time waiting. It doesn’t look like he’s going to show up after all. You make it all the way back to your apartment on the island of Venezia, one of the eight small portions of land that make up the archipelago of Cidy. It takes you a good half an hour of fighting the crowds to get out of the masses in Firenze, the central, political island and to the eastern bridge that links the anarchical center to your own home of textile mills and liquidators. You’re exhausted by the time you make it to your floor of the Hourglass Tower in the center of the island. You kick at your door and the sheet of metal slides open to reveal your atrium-like living room. You scowl when you spot your older brother lying on the couch, a holoscreen in his hand with a videogame haloing his face in blue holograms. He sits upright when you drop your bag onto the floor and grins at you. “Hey, kiddo. How was your day?” You walk over and collapse beside him on the couch as your mother glances at you from where she’s cooking dinner on the stove. “Well?” Levi nudges you with his elbow. You roll your eyes. “Let me tell you....”</p> </div> <div class="col-md-12"> <h4> End. </h4> </div> <div class="col-md-12"> <h3 style="text-align:center;"> <a href="../storypath/start.html">Go back to start</a> </h3> </div> </div> </body> </html>