Giant buildings slowly shrivel to dwarves
As my distance from them grows
Their unending sounds and blaring lights
Are deafened and dimmed by the tunnel
As it siphons me away
Through the tunnel and over the hill
The air thickens and is made visible
The land appears craterous and dead
No pedestrians to be seen
No voices to be heard
Only the caterwauls of industry
Bellowing smoke tinges the air grey
Trucks grind and clatter
Birds fly higher than my sight
As if to avoid all that lies below
“It is only temporary,” I tell myself
As I wait for the scene to change
I’ve phased through this place many times
I know what comes next
The grey shall fade
And the bald and craterous grounds
Will be made full and coated green
There will be a mountain, trees, even lakes
And the birds will be seen again
Eventually, I pass the mountain
Gated and graffitied
I think, “It’s not all bad here”
And, in truth, it isn’t
But I could NEVER LIVE here
Not in this place
Only good for a visit
I stop not long after
Now there are no sounds at all
There is nothing
The land is flat and dark
In all directions
I cannot discern
By what means did I come to be here?
So dull with nothing to greet me
No path lies to either side of me
This place is
Like living in stasis
I scramble to return to my familiar grid
Of noise and concrete
But I find no hints, signs, or street
I sit and sigh awhile
I’ll never be certain why, but I’m in exile.
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