The city built for them a home, a place to call their own. Lovingly crafted of wood and cement, it stands as a shining example of modern engineering. Slopes and curves and spins and gyres lie tumultuous over the landscape. "No graffiti!" a sign warns. "Wear a helmet," chides another. Nothing doing.
The city made for them a home, and it suits them, alright. They flock here. They've lowered property values in the immediate vicinity and broken everything not taped down. The city's gift horse has been looked squarely in the mouth, then crowbarred and spray painted.
Miscreants.
I like this. I don't know why. I guess I like the last word.
ReplyDelete"Miscreants."
It sounds vaguely affectionate.
I'm with Janelle, I like the use of miscreants. I also like how easy it is for me to visualize everything. Great idea for a creative writing assignment, one that can be as short as what you've written here, or even much longer.
ReplyDeleteIt smelled like sadness, anger, and reproduction. I don't know how mothers allowed their children in there unchaperoned. I saw a kid I swear was only ten.
ReplyDeleteIt kind of looks like it does.
ReplyDeleteI don't think anyone wants the answers to that. You should see my kids.
Are they sad?
ReplyDeleteSad and angry.
ReplyDelete