Post by atlas on May 21, 2006 21:20:49 GMT -5
Atlas turned down the street, dropping a wrapper down onto the sidewalk. He raised the back of his hand to his mouth and wiped the chocolate from his lips. In his other hand he held a fountain soda. He took a large gulp from the cup and looked around. The city was lit by traffic lights and nothing else. To one side of the street there was warehouse after warehouse. On the other side were shop fronts. On that same side was a single convenient store. Atlas couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was so convenient about them. The tellers spoke shotty English at best. And they were always crowded. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he couldn’t even buy a drink without spend a crap load of money. Thirty two ounces are not worth a dollar twenty five. He didn’t smoke but the fact that it cost four dollars for a pack of cigarettes was ridiculous.
Atlas walked down the side with the warehouses. He liked this path, as there were less homeless people to step over. This was convenient, though on days like this a bit disappointing. Atlas wasn’t so heartless that he hated the homeless. They served a valuable service to the city. They suffered in order for people like Atlas to thrive. Even though he wasn’t a religious man he understood that they were God’s little joke.
As he made his way around the block he took a final gulp from the cup. He tossed it to the ground without stopping. Two more warehouses sat on this street. They were accompanied by a factory. Atlas wasn’t sure what purpose the factory served, and it didn’t really matter. He continued past the factory and laughed at the notion of a sweat shop. This thought provoked a curious look as thought about it. “That’d be a great way to produce wrestling gear really cheap.” He’d consider this later.
The notion of wrestling reminded him of the four man match he was in. He only counted four because Jade was no man, despite the Adam’s apple. He laughed out loud at that. It’d be fun showing her why her place is in the kitchen. “Bare foot and pregnant:” He laughed again. As for the other men in the match? Chris Crime seemed to be a whiner. Bitching about how much life sucks, and how he can’t find purpose. As for the other two, he knew nothing about either of them.
Atlas turned down an alleyway that separated the factory from more warehouses. The alleyway was real dark since there were no traffic lights to keep it lit. However, there was just enough light to see that a corner of the street was had a lump of newspaper. “There we go,” he thought. He continued down toward the pile of newspapers. As he came closer legs were visible from underneath. Atlas put one leg over the homeless person, and kicked him (or was it a her?) in the back. The grunt revealed that it was a him. That was good, last thing Atlas needed was another homeless woman suing him for assault. He brought his second foot over the homeless man and kicked him again. The homeless man stood, tossing the newspapers to the ground. He was a big guy. He stood level to Atlas, but kind of lanky.
The two men stared each other in the eyes for a few moments. Finally the homeless man spoke up. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He never moved his eyes from Atlas as he spoke. Atlas thought about his answer for a brief moment then answered with his classic cocky grin, “Chris Crime.” He broke eye contact for a moment in order to look beyond the homeless man. Ah yes, he had a clear path. He looked at the man in front of him one more time then nut punched him and ran.
Atlas ran for what had to be ten minutes before stopping to see if he was still being chased. The man was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and then smiled. It wasn’t his problem now. The guy would be looking Chris Crime and not him. He was well away from the alley now. His house was only a couple blocks away. His pace for the rest of the journey would be a calm and steady one.
Atlas walked down the side with the warehouses. He liked this path, as there were less homeless people to step over. This was convenient, though on days like this a bit disappointing. Atlas wasn’t so heartless that he hated the homeless. They served a valuable service to the city. They suffered in order for people like Atlas to thrive. Even though he wasn’t a religious man he understood that they were God’s little joke.
As he made his way around the block he took a final gulp from the cup. He tossed it to the ground without stopping. Two more warehouses sat on this street. They were accompanied by a factory. Atlas wasn’t sure what purpose the factory served, and it didn’t really matter. He continued past the factory and laughed at the notion of a sweat shop. This thought provoked a curious look as thought about it. “That’d be a great way to produce wrestling gear really cheap.” He’d consider this later.
The notion of wrestling reminded him of the four man match he was in. He only counted four because Jade was no man, despite the Adam’s apple. He laughed out loud at that. It’d be fun showing her why her place is in the kitchen. “Bare foot and pregnant:” He laughed again. As for the other men in the match? Chris Crime seemed to be a whiner. Bitching about how much life sucks, and how he can’t find purpose. As for the other two, he knew nothing about either of them.
Atlas turned down an alleyway that separated the factory from more warehouses. The alleyway was real dark since there were no traffic lights to keep it lit. However, there was just enough light to see that a corner of the street was had a lump of newspaper. “There we go,” he thought. He continued down toward the pile of newspapers. As he came closer legs were visible from underneath. Atlas put one leg over the homeless person, and kicked him (or was it a her?) in the back. The grunt revealed that it was a him. That was good, last thing Atlas needed was another homeless woman suing him for assault. He brought his second foot over the homeless man and kicked him again. The homeless man stood, tossing the newspapers to the ground. He was a big guy. He stood level to Atlas, but kind of lanky.
The two men stared each other in the eyes for a few moments. Finally the homeless man spoke up. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He never moved his eyes from Atlas as he spoke. Atlas thought about his answer for a brief moment then answered with his classic cocky grin, “Chris Crime.” He broke eye contact for a moment in order to look beyond the homeless man. Ah yes, he had a clear path. He looked at the man in front of him one more time then nut punched him and ran.
Atlas ran for what had to be ten minutes before stopping to see if he was still being chased. The man was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and then smiled. It wasn’t his problem now. The guy would be looking Chris Crime and not him. He was well away from the alley now. His house was only a couple blocks away. His pace for the rest of the journey would be a calm and steady one.