Electra's city

Electra slipped the pill between her teeth hours ago, before the sun vanished and the city's lights came alive. Without it, the hunger would be unbearable. The city's pop-up shops, touted as lifesavers, closed by eleven, leaving her searching for sustenance.

Rain pounded against her head, and she flipped up her hood, shoving her hands into her pockets. Daytime belonged to the rich; cops ticketed people like Electra for existing during daylight. At night, the city's lights flickered on, and Electra ventured out, joining the hungry masses.

The last shop she frequented had closed, leaving her desperate. Puddle water splashed against her jeans as she briskly walked north. The hunger gnawed at her. She stopped at a street corner, watching the silent stampede of electric cars rush through the green light.

The city was pretty, despite its problems. Electra enjoyed the rain's magical effect, blurring the shops and lights. Astigmatism made it prettier. A fixable problem, like her hunger. Just a little money could solve it.

Pale blue light rained down from the shop entrances, catching the white cars and turning them into streaks of blue. Electra wondered what it would be like to be in those cars. Red light washed over the hoods of people waiting underneath the rain.

A sardonic laugh escaped her lips as she thought about the candidates' empty promises. Ah, she'd missed the light again. The city's heartbeat was slow, four minutes between light changes. Was it dying, or would it live forever?

Electra slid another pill under her tongue, numbing the hunger. The city wasn't bright enough, and she was so hungry. A cup of noodles every few days wasn't enough.

Across the street, a diner beckoned. Two women, peach-haired and yellow-haired, shared fries. An electric combination, like Jupiter's bands. They bled into each other. Electra blinked, and it was gone.

The lights changed, and Electra joined the crossing crowd. Part of the masses again. She wobbled on the slick third line but didn't fall. Gravity tugged at the women. Their eyes connected, black and green turning into a tornadic storm.

Electra closed in, swallowing thickly as the hunger fizzled. Their light was sickening. She brushed shoulders with them, feeling an impossible squeeze of longing.

Seven lines passed, and Electra turned around. The pair should have been behind her, but there was only hoods and the hungry. Eight lines of white cut into the starving traffic.

Electra swallowed the bitter aftertaste and kept walking, searching for a ramen shop.

Electra slipped the pill between her teeth hours ago, before the sun vanished and the city's lights came alive. Without it, the hunger would be unbearable. The city's pop-up shops, touted as lifesavers, closed by eleven, leaving her searching for sustenance.

Rain pounded against her head, and she flipped up her hood, shoving her hands into her pockets. Daytime belonged to the rich; cops ticketed people like Electra for existing during daylight. At night, the city's lights flickered on, and Electra ventured out, joining the hungry masses.

The last shop she frequented had closed, leaving her desperate. Puddle water splashed against her jeans as she briskly walked north. The hunger gnawed at her. She stopped at a street corner, watching the silent stampede of electric cars rush through the green light.

The city was pretty, despite its problems. Electra enjoyed the rain's magical effect, blurring the shops and lights. Astigmatism made it prettier. A fixable problem, like her hunger. Just a little money could solve it.

Pale blue light rained down from the shop entrances, catching the white cars and turning them into streaks of blue. Electra wondered what it would be like to be in those cars. Red light washed over the hoods of people waiting underneath the rain.

A sardonic laugh escaped her lips as she thought about the candidates' empty promises. Ah, she'd missed the light again. The city's heartbeat was slow, four minutes between light changes. Was it dying, or would it live forever?

Electra slid another pill under her tongue, numbing the hunger. The city wasn't bright enough, and she was so hungry. A cup of noodles every few days wasn't enough.

Across the street, a diner beckoned. Two women, peach-haired and yellow-haired, shared fries. An electric combination, like Jupiter's bands. They bled into each other. Electra blinked, and it was gone.

The lights changed, and Electra joined the crossing crowd. Part of the masses again. She wobbled on the slick third line but didn't fall. Gravity tugged at the women. Their eyes connected, black and green turning into a tornadic storm.

Electra closed in, swallowing thickly as the hunger fizzled. Their light was sickening. She brushed shoulders with them, feeling an impossible squeeze of longing.

Seven lines passed, and Electra turned around. The pair should have been behind her, but there was only hoods and the hungry. Eight lines of white cut into the starving traffic.

Electra swallowed the bitter aftertaste and kept walking, searching for a ramen shop.