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Firelight in my eyes and I couldn't be happier.

Somewhere in the distance, music plays to a crowd of people, and I try to remember when the last time I actually heard someone sing anything. There had always been the little jingle that played on the television: "Breathe easier with Cyrus air!" But aside from this, not a single song springs to mind. It's weird to hear music again. The instruments are like something out of a dream, odd yet familiar. The lyrics are of things that no longer concern me. No one's done drugs in such a long time, because the production of them went all to hell once the city walls were put up. I guess that's one thing that Cyrus really can boast about.

I downed my beautiful balloon in a field God-knows-how-far away from the city. I'm sure I could pull it up on the balloon's computer, but I honestly don't care. The farther I can get away with it the better, but knowing me, I would probably be disappointed with the reality of things. In my mind, an inch is a mile. Wishful thinking.

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I landed and was going to set up camp, when out in the distance, silhouetted by the setting sun, came a man strolling up to the balloon, like the big Cyrus logo on the surface of my transport was nothing to be feared. By this time I was scrounging around for food, but not having much luck. He walked over and looked at the balloon; didn't say a word, before he got his fill.

"How the hell did you make this?" he asked.

"With my mind," I said, a little on guard.

"Only mind balloons I've ever seen come in a comic book." He spit some kind of brown liquid into the tall grass. "Must have taken you a while."

His name was Toru, and he was a short Asian man with home-cut hair. Some areas were long, some not so long, some damn near bald. His head looked like the tip of an ashy cigarette, back when people used to smoke the things. As the air got worse, inhaling anything impure went the way of the mini-disc.

He wore the most basic of clothes: Pants and a T-shirt. Both covered in home-stitched patches and seams. None of the craftsmanship was all that great, but I guess fashion isn't high on the list when you're living off the land, which was exactly what he and his community were doing.

To say I was surprised when he led me to the town they had created would be an understatement. For years, Cyrus had told us that it was hopeless. The outside world was lost. No going back, ever. But here were these people, living and breathing people, getting along without having to pay zoning taxes or buy air rations. None of them looked abnormal. None of them were deformed by the radiations that Cyrus warned us about.

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my beautiful balloon has 6 friends.

Dick	Moon-eye in the Sky	Cy-grrl
Sheos	Bouncing on the World	the good reverend

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Displaying 7 of 7 comments

the good reverend	6/21/2106 2:22 PM They were normal, just like you and me. Later we had a feast. I ate steak. Real steak. I could never describe the taste, and afterward, my stomach hurt a little, but it was worth it. I disappeared once the music started playing. I don't know why, but just hearing it brought tears to my eyes and I had to get out of there. I had to be by myself for a while. So I went back to the downed balloon and built a fire, listened to it burn for a while.
Cy-grrl	6/18/2106 7:40 PM Toru came by after most of the wood had burned away. He brought me more timber to keep the flames alive, and a blanket and pillow if I chose to sleep by the balloon during the night. He offered his bed, saying he would sleep on the floor, but I told him it wasn't necessary. Then he sat next to me, and we were silent for a long time, the air filled with smoke and the sound of fire chomping on the wood.
Bouncing on the World	6/17/2106 8:07 PM Toru got up with a smile and a squeeze to my right arm, and he told me he would wake me for breakfast.
the good reverend	6/17/2106 7:04 PM Now I'm writing you, whoever you are, because I want you to know that there is a place where people look at you as a friend first and not a potential enemy. There are places in the world not yet touched by the cynicism of the Cyrus Corporation. All that they believe, all that they tell you, it's held inside their walls and doesn't apply to life beyond those fixtures.
Sheos	6/17/2106 6:32 PM However, at the same time I'm writing this, I can't help but see Cyrus City as a kind of time bomb set against the entire world, because if they ever break free from their walls, if they ever decide that they can influence an entire world with their sickness, there will be rivers of blood as a consequence.
Cy-grrl	6/13/2106 2:39 PM It all leads to one conclusion: Cyrus must be taken down.
Sheos	6/10/2106 11:22 AM And people must be the ones to do it. [end transmission]

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