13

13
Outside, a row of large boxes lines a gravel street. A bluish grey mist seals the street into a narrow world. As you walk, a tunnel of laughing children unfolds. Sparrows dive around you and elderly couples eye you from open porches.
At the end, a field approaches. It is waving in winds that carry the smell of soil. Mounds of human flesh spot the field, working close to the land. One is moving. It comes towards you as you cross towards it.
The old man stands before you, yet his complexion seems smoother and darker. He reminds you of Mario.
"Hola." "Hola." The exchange is brief, for the old man proceeds back the way you came. You stand there, watching. Sparrows land on his shoulder, and he swats them with an the automatic manner. He moves like a camel through you; you are deserted, again.
[to follow him, continue. To stay ahead, skip to chapter 15]