(short fiction #8)
That foreign city
Compared to most cities I’ve visited, this one feels calm…and oddly sleepy. Most of the creatures are apathetic to humans. One day, I said “Hi!” to a robot and a talking cat on a park. Their only respond was blank stare. Maybe I disturbed their chat and annoyed them. Maybe they were feeling sorry for me, a painfully awkward bugger.
Their apathy contributes to the city’s relative calmness. For foreigners, it’s a boring atmosphere. For me, it’s relaxing. Many cities cannot be described that way. It’s a highly-cultured city, also thanks to the non-humans.
Apart from the awkward encounter, I’d never interacted with them. Always saw them in galleries, museums, the downtown and even my university. They interacted with the humans, talking about arts and cultures, possibly planning their own projects. I’m always intrigued by the ones in my uni.
I don’t know why. Maybe because the youthful energy. Maybe they still have their idealism. Maybe I was just an asshole; I thought I was the only cultured youth out there. But, whatever the reasons, surrounded by artistic youths gives me colourful emotions.
It’s inspiring. I appreciate earthly creatures’ boundless sense of beauty. I heard students discussing films passionately. I witnessed students thrive in creative classes. Outside the classrooms, they thrived. Human-robot choirs. Sludges dance troupes. Ghostly slam poetry. Seen them all. To think that my uni didn’t (and still doesn’t) specialise in the arts. The Indonesian uni I dropped out from was similar minus the humility. If only I am more social.
The atmosphere also keeps slapping me (my face hasn’t adjusted to the pain). It reminds me of my own sloth. Sometimes, I dream about getting slaps by fellow students. I hope it stays as a dream. You don’t want non-humans to slap you. I’ve seen photos online.
Do I need one? Sighs. Can I let the sloth write it for me? No? Fine!
It can be concluded that different cities have different humans and non-humans. Yadda yadda yadda! Happy?