STOLEN Chapter 6-2

*warning: Everything you read here are works of fiction

Part 2

         "The director said you can go." said the Marid. Its coarse voice made Zakri's throat hurt. He stepped back to his post and tapped the trident's end to the ground. The sound echoed into the air like a melodious lullaby and slowly, the gate, gold like the trident with silver like spikes adorning its upper edges, slides open in front of Zakri.

         A whiff of more jasmine and vanilla sweeps up Zakri's face. He walks out pass the gate and into the main road. His eyes followed the road as it stretch into the horizon and stops in front of a huge wall. Zakri then turned to the other direction and saw the same thing. "What a small city" he said and followed the sidewalk to his left.

         The city was weird. The building were of all shapes and sizes, even to what Zakri compared as equivalent to a chicken coop. Yet every house inside the city, be it with the bright and cheerful neon or the ones the size of chicken coops, all had occupants and neither of them fit the size of their houses. The ones with the bright and cheerful neon with windows the size of doors were occupied by smaller, creatures, and the houses of opposite size were homes to larger sized creatures.

         Though he liked to wonder about how could they possibly fit into those houses they occupied, his mind preferred to be somewhere else. It drifts from one memories to the other.

         Zakri massaged his head. He looked around for a place to sit and found a bench, neatly placed several feet in front of him,  facing an odd house shaped like a spike ball. He sat on the bench and buried his head into his hands. He heard the voices of his friend, Jimmy, the distress sound, the footsteps of people hurrying about, and the voice of the one who raided his friend's place.