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Tris walked briskly past the docks, under the cranes, wondering what it would be like to have a shipping container dropped on his head. Would he feel anything or would it be instadeath?

He could see the East District ahead of him, and when the smell of the food vendors on the edge of the district nearest the docks mingled with the sea smell, his spirits lifted. The East District meant home, home meant safety.

He considered the attack in the Warehouse District. Was it coincidental? Surely.

Tris had to concentrate to keep from running.

The transition into the District was like pulling on virtual reality glasses, or what Tris assumed a good VR embed felt like. A wall of sound and smells and people. It was a forest to the dock's desert, the shade providing shelter from the sun but the stalls radiating heat.

Tris touched his pocket, feeling the outline of the envelope. Surely that ambush was coincidental.
Write something more Danielesque!

I spent so many years trying to write things to present my aesthetics and it went really no where... I mean i got a lot of practice out of it, but I could've gone about it more effectively.

The thing I used to do is paint my characters and settings in cafes, coffees, and creative underclass. Stuff like that. But because i was so fixated on that aesthetic i never figured out what is actually Abe about. What does he want to say?

After reading your stuff for awhile I think you struggle with this as well. 
2021-06-13 16:39:45

Echo and the Bunnymen