/lit/ - Literature

Posted before, will post a Pastebin later I guess.

The rooster crowed as Jenny jumped over the tenth shack roof of the lower, sanded streets of Cathardis.
A mist was rising, the streets were in bustle, and high up in the clouds was a sun shy to peek through the grey smog chocking the city landscape. The red, sombre flag of the hammer and sickle tied high to every speaker spearing out from a dreary world below, the daily propaganda in tow of the morning schedule – it was just another Tuesday as far as Jenny could tell, or was it a Wednesday? Depends on who they decorated the city gates with first - Christians or Spies? One could often see a line of bones hanging down from Figure Row on their way to the markets, and if you could take one of their crosses - you could fool the guards into thinking you were one of them, and as the Noble Law states - “All forms of Religious Propaganda are punishable by death.”
Luckily for Jenny, she was just the distraction. The real cohorts of their little operation had already nabbed the goods off the supply truck long before the guards even knew they were there. The High Rulers sure loved their potatoes, and it was a good thing that food was constantly in demand - otherwise there would be nothing left to sell to the formerly-rich masses who’d now trade-in their own diamonds for a shot at bread.
It was a crumb of irony that left Jenny wanting. Just a regime-change ago these same very men would laugh at her for being a “nobody”, when now – at this moment, at least - it was she who had all the food in the city…
Until the guards came along.
“Thief!” they said. “We know who you are! Give that back or we’ll put your head on a spike!”
Jenny was too busy tugging leg to see all the commotion behind her, and if it wasn’t for all the musket fire, pebble-slinging, or foul language – she’d probably never figure out it wasn’t a good place to be, fact is – life never was: it was always about moving forward, being chased, always struggling, and if you got caught - you were caught forever, and that wasn’t just because the High Rulers had you shot for pointing the wrong way to parliament, they did, it was also because a life tied to money was never fun without the chase, anyway - or so Jenny convinced herself - she was nearing the end of the shack avenue, and either had to get down on street level – and risk more guards – or try vaulting over the barrack walls just ahead of the last roof’s edge - to see if she liked the idea of getting chased by professional soldiers.
She smirked. “It just never gets any easier, does it?”
Time was flying before the roof’s end. Jenny had to decide if it was now or never, prison, or splat.
So on the beat of a strained pulse - Jenny folded out her steel staff mid-run and dug it into the edge of the last sandstone roof. The momentum bridged her through the ash-filled air, and across the tar walls of the district's barracks.

>>9537715
Same guy, tried improving it a little.

The rooster crowed as Jenny jumped over the tenth shack roof in the avenue line, the sands of her heel scrapping to the streets below her, and the threats of her pursuers getting louder and louder as they closed-in to her tail. The dawn was rising, the streets were in bustle, and high up in the clouds was a sun shy to peek through the grey smog chocking the city landscape. The red, sombre flag of the hammer and sickle tied to every antenna, every speaker, and every camera sticking out from the dreary world below.
Just another Thursday as far as Jenny could tell. Or was it Friday? Depends on who they were decorating the city gates with first; Christians or Spies? One could often see a line of the poor saps hanging down from Figure Row on their way to the markets, and if you were to take one of their crucifixes - you could fool the guards into thinking you were one of them. And as the law states: “All forms of Religious Propaganda are punishable by death.”
Luckily for Jenny, she was just the distraction. The real cohorts of their little operation had already nabbed the goods from the supply truck before the guards even knew they were there. The High Rulers sure loved their potatoes, and it was a good thing that food was constantly in demand, otherwise there would be nothing to sell to the formerly-rich masses, who’d now trade-in their own jewels for a shot at bread. Jenny thought it light to think how the loss of the basest necessities can easily change one’s philosophical outlook on life.
“Come back thief!” the guards screamed behind her; Jenny was already too busy tugging leg to see all the commotion her pursuers were making, but if it wasn’t for the constant spear-chucking, rock-slinging, or foul language - she’d probably never would’ve figured out that it wasn’t a good place to be…
“Or we'll have your head on a spike!”
Or dangerous, for that matter. Fact is - she never liked looking behind her; life was always about moving forward; always struggling, always being chased, and if you got caught - you were caught forever, and that wasn’t just because the High Rulers had you killed-off for pointing the wrong way to parliament, no; it was also because a life tied to money was never fun without the chase anyway. Or so Jenny convinced herself. She was nearing the end of the shack avenue and either had to get down on street level – and risk more guards – or try vaulting over the barrack walls just ahead of the last roof’s edge - to see if she liked the idea of getting chased by professional soldiers.
She smirked. “It just never gets any easier, does it?”
Time was fleeting before the roof’s end. Jenny had to decide if it was now or never, prison, or splat.
So on the beat of a strained pulse - Jinny folded out her steel staff mid-run and dug it into the edge of the very last sandstone roof.