As I sat by the open window, the smell of the city smog and fast food wafted beneath the framing and glass and permeated the room with its unpleasant stench. Furious horns sounded far below my window as the sun began to rise on the seemingly nonexistent horizon, the light filtered by hundreds of feet of buildings scraping the sky with their lightning rods. The bustle of rush hour had awoken me from my slumber.
I shut the window and my bare feet pattered against the cold, linoleum floor. From under the kitchen sink I pulled out a can of Oust and sprayed until the false hopes of a nearby meadow pushed aside the odor of reality and McDonald's Happy Meals. I threw the empty can of aerosol into the garbage and knew that I'd later have to go out and buy myself a new meadow and perhaps some scented candles.
On the table, I opened my laptop and Googled the latest houses for sale in the out-of-reach reality called the countryside. I found photographs of old Kentucky farms and oceanside hideaways on the coast of Maine. I know that on my lower middle class monthly income, all of these dream places of living seemed half the world away as I was stuck scratching around in this landfill called New York City. |
Submission Name: Out of Reach
