I can't remember when the world changed—when the animals began speaking, when the inanimate became animate, or when the ignorant became brilliant. The sun disappeared, yet my visibility remained unchanged. The moon had vanished, too, making day and night entirely conceptual.
It is always black. All the buildings are an odd mix of purple, blue, and green, lit with neon signs resembling lighthouses, beckoning weak-minded customers and vending liquid idiocy. The outlandish, contorted structures fight against the darkness but ultimately lose, drowned by an overwhelming murk.
Navigating the gloom are buses driven by hardworking hounds. Those guys are loyal dullards who can't make it by doing anything else. Why work your life away, filling the pockets of some bum pig with their feet kicked up on an ottoman and a beer in their hoof?
Most are still slaves to societal norms, but I've broken free. I sleep during the "day" and walk the streets at "night." The winding sidewalks are less crowded when everyone else is still in bed, granting me a lull from needless interaction. Still, the buildings whisper to me. You're worthless. You'll never amount to anything. You're wasting your time on a stroll while you could be productive. I often ignore the ramblings, though occasionally, I'll get distracted and bump shoulders with a rat. Or a snake, if you could call what they have shoulders. They always apologized, bowed, or begged for forgiveness despite our collision being my fault.
Usually, after trekking around a mile in the opposite direction, I'd notice my wallet was missing. I knew it was long gone at that point, so I'd continue to walk.
"I should have known," I'd groan.
"It's been a while since I've run into someone likable," I'd lament.
"I hope they enjoy my Caesars Rewards Card and three bucks," I'd mock.
Occasionally, they snag my ID, too, but it always makes its way back to me— Through the mail, left at my door, attached to a brick thrown through my window. It seems none of them could handle my life. Was it my job they couldn't handle? My wife? My family? My in-laws? Or was it me? The way I see the world?
I can't remember the last time I was happy.