Kyle walked out of the building with the dead boy still lying on the floor. He stepped into the dark streets, softly illuminated by torchlights. Kyle liked to watch the torches sometimes, even though they hurt his eyes. It was the only source of light here in the slums. If they all went out, then the entire place would plunge into darkness. Up there, there was thing called a sun. Some people said it was beautiful, much more magnificent than these torches. Some of the people who did the slummed sometimes got to see the sun. But even then, it was only a fake sun. They said the sun could make even a crackhead feel inspired.
Underneath that beautiful shell up there with those ridiculous domes, was a dark world. But in Kyle’s opinion, it was a better world. People in the slums were more independent. You learned to walk by yourself. You taught yourself how to speak. People were mature by the age of 5. But of course not everyone. Those who did mature became pimps, the only good job out there. Once you grew older, women became prostitutes, men became crackheads. Few stayed in the pimping business. Why? No one knew in particularly why. But it was left to the little people.
There was a quote he once caught off a sign:
“Mother Earth is just like the face of a girl. When she is young, she shows off her beauty. Now that she’s old, she hides her ugliness with a shell of makeup. But makeup can be washed off and then only the ugliness of her face remains.”
There were no grace in those words. They sounded as if they were directly translated out of a book. Dry and awkward. It was a sign written as a feeble attempt to rally everyone’s spirits and send them out to do something instead of sitting around smoking. The attempt failed miserably.
Kyle chuckled as he shook himself out of his thought. Look at him, trying to be all deep. He looked up and saw a procession of people, all chained up and walking along the streets. He watched it curiously before he waved at the man leading the procession.
“Gerald! What’s this?”
“Did you hear? They slummed that one China dome! I’m trying to get a new batch of girls.”
Kyle jogged over and inspected the women in chains.
“A healthy lot you got here.”
“Yeah. Pretty too.”
“You think they would have any left?”
“Well, you’d have to run. But I suppose yes. They need training though. I don’t think too many of them speak English.”
Kyle chuckled. He dealt with too many women who couldn’t speak English. When you couldn’t talk to them with your mouth, you used gestures and a whip. It was just like taming a lion. Only you didn’t have to worry about being accidentally eaten.