The Sun was setting down, as the city lights were waking up - to quirkly simulate its light - in the middle of a traffic jam. This city has no name, as it solely exists in this post.
We could call it CryptoCity. Everything is possible here. Has always been.
Stopping in the details would takes us probably as much as the creators of the cryptocurrency to relate - and it would drive us off the story we are to tell tonight. Might be one writing, there are many composing. Possibly one signing, many authoring... That is how the threads are made.
Back to the traffic jam. The rumbling of the engines, tires screeching, motorbikes passing through the cars like flies, angry horns accompanying the cacophony of the stuffed roads and intersections. The red lights are not working anymore, and various officers try to regain control with some orders here and there. The civilians quickly start taking action by themselves. They by-pass the indications, each one taking a step forward in synchronicity with its neighbour. The newcomers start adapting to this eventual rules born from an unexpected situation, measured by the simple common sense and survival of all - more than the fittest. Some of the most enterprising assume the role of the authorities, guiding - more than imposing. Others support the weakest. The strongest lead in achievement, dirtying their hands.
In less than expected, the agents are no longer needed - and order has been recovered in a natural manner. Guide more by heuristics, than logical thinking.
A glimpse of utopian reality, which will quickly vanish when we all put our masks back. Duncan, thirty-one years old, freelance graphic artist, was leaning on his window, watching all of it happen. His cigarette was half smoked, and his coffee still smoky. A simple T-Shirt, jogging pants, finger socks.
He seemed as a cat enjoying the first rays of the morning light, if it wasn't because it was actually getting dark. A cat jumps to his side, watching him in silence, almost as an Egyptian Statue.
- I also wish you to find some moths tonight, Luna - Duncan says, before sipping from his mug. A smile breaking in his face. He let's the ashes fly away in a quick movement, followed by the eyes of the feline. A phone starts ringing, a standard song for a smartphone. Duncan looks away, almost bothered - Can't you bring it to me? - Funny, he stands up to reach the phone for the call to be over. Sammy is the missing name call. Duncan seems surprised.
- What could Sammy want? - Duncan looks around, sceptical - Sammy? He must have miss-clicked - Duncan drops the phone on top of the table again. A couple of other phone calls from some days ago. Mom. Tarik. Luna is already juggling between Duncan's legs, playful. The young man ducks down to continue playing with Luna. She rolls over to him, extending her paws. She teases him without reaching his fingers. She stops, staring at him before getting back up enrolling herself in his knees. He caresses her vividly before standing up with energy - That's enough, little cat! I still have things to do... - He raises his eyes to the desk, filled with documents, a computer, some glasses, and ashtray. Sarcastic smile in his face, he walks towards the desk imagining himself about to confront a mythical creature.
[...A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER]
One thing was clear, when Duncan has something in mind he doesn't stop until he makes it. With tidying his room, this worked quite well. In terms of keeping up with bills, life-style, and other unexpected surprises...He also did fine. A strange feeling of realization by overcoming the smallest of the obstacles has always kept him going forward - even if considered a useless adult for most of his family, including his parents, it has never seemed to bother him.
The last folders into a drawer that will soon be full is the last piece before his desk becomes the sanctuary he has made of it. In contrast with the rest of the room, that is a holy space. With a smile in his face, he delicately pulls the chair and let's himself fall in relief. A swift click on the keyboard as the computer starts launching, strings of white emerging from the keyboard and the screen. Luna jumps on top of the desk, smelling the now cold cup of coffee - Time to work, baby. If we want to make it another month, you know I need to do this - The answer of his cat, is merely a yawn, and a small look away, as if her attention was dragged to something outside. A look to the closed door from Duncan before he puts on his headphones and connects his drawing pad.
A soft classical intro starts changing into a rock melody long known by everyone... The volume raises, as the beat synchs with Duncan's feet. Luna seems curious about what's going on in Duncan's tablet. And then a quick reaction. She jumps off the desk and goes towards the door. Duncan doesn't give any attention to the gesture, deeply focused on his drawing and the music he's listening to. The rhythm seems to guide even his drawing. Sometimes he smiles, satisfied with what he sees - the beat is stronger. The beat is almost so strong that it seems to be coming from outside the headphones.
Duncan stops drawing, tries to identify while still listening to the music at the same volume, if it's the drum or the noise is coming from elsewhere, as he turns his head to discover Luna scratching the door. The door strongly vibrating, as if pushed from the outside. Duncan drops the headphones off...
Someone seems to be trying to demolish his door. The knock is intense, fast and repeatedly...desperate?
Who is it?! - Duncan shouts from his chair, while the feline steps back slowly. The knocking stops. - Open the door, please! - It's a male voice. A voice Duncan doesn't seem to recognize. - Who the heck are you?! What do you want with my door? - Duncan looks around, in search of something to use as a weapon?
The knocks start again, this time stronger. - Open the door, please! Duncan! Open the freaking door! It's Sammy! - The voice on the other side of the doors finally declares. Duncan can't believe, he actually negates with his head. - Am I imagining all this? - Whispers to himself - How can he know where do I live? - He stares at the door. Reality check. The door vibrates again. - Man, really? Seriously? You're going to let me out? Like this? - Sammy concluded from the other end.
The cat looks at the door, then at Duncan. At Duncan and the at the door, as if watching a theatre play.
[TO BE CONTINUED...]
PS - I'd love to have feedback as it is my first post, with the intend to know if to keep on going with this thread and story or not. Thank you very much for spending some time reading it
