Another day off today. Or rather, my last day off from the Stitch.
My plan was to head to the Roman mall one last time before my departure. A calm cherry ice and a chat with the animals was a perfect tonic. I still worry they will shut this place down. That every trip will be my last. Once I go off world, I may not return even if the doors remain open.
I am overthinking.
The familiar pink neon spires of the mall poked out over a patch of elm trees when the brakes hissed, and hovered above a fountain in the shape of fish leaping over the sun. An old style piece, but a good one. The bus driver was bird shaped, with a hooked beak. Another classic. They informed me that the road was blocked ahead, and flying any further was an impossibility. I assumed the drive was malfunctioning, and after a brief chat they sank us low enough to hop off.
My last happy memory of today was walking under those elm trees, enjoying the cool shade, thinking about sloths bigger than the vehicle I had disembarked from.
The smoke that was thick enough to make me cough. Beyond the police rope was a city close to photos and videos from the war.
‘Not many left now,’ I heard one of the officers say.
They stopped me getting much closer. I still saw all the different metal parts in clear plastic bags arranged on the tree branches. The kind of plastic banned for over a decade. That constant phrase was scrawled into the trunk on the bark below.
I got lucky, and the bus was still hovering nearby. The bus eagle said he would take me back at no extra cost.
Perhaps I will get another chance to visit. One day.
Clip: Thank goodness for a new Butter Mouse clip. They fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle now. I almost know what to expect.