HOME | DD

Description
I had to get away - out of the stink of the city, away from the constant dirty fug and the filthy streets. The stench of humanity was overbearing, drowning, sickening, it--

I had to get away.

It took a long time to figure out how. The trains were over-priced and run with military brutality. The city was too vast to simply walk beyond the range of its pestilence. I knew, I'd tried. Horses stank. These new cars were loud and obnoxious, the many boats which clogged the reeking river were too full of people.

But I eventually realized that air was to be my salvation, air was to be my escape. I took to creeping across the streets by night, filching sheets from washing lines and even the occasional bed. Only clean sheets would do, of course - I wasn't about to try and escape on a cloud of lice.

It didn't take as long as you'd think: after just three nights I'd scavanged two dozen sheets. Burning the midnight oil and desperate to be gone, I stiched them together into a patchwork, the tapestry which would document my escape.

Preparing the basket was easy, finding enough food to last me a few days trifling. The challenge - the real test of my mettle - was the air. Ironically, I would need to channel the very stench from which I sought to escape. It took many nights of crafting to produce the vacuum I needed, and to learn how best to direct the air as I desired.

And so, on the eighth night, I filled my hand-stiched balloon full of the stink of the city, and I sailed the skies in search of the freedom I craved.

Description
I had to get away - out of the stink of the city, away from the constant dirty fug and the filthy streets. The stench of humanity was overbearing, drowning, sickening, it--

I had to get away.

It took a long time to figure out how. The trains were over-priced and run with military brutality. The city was too vast to simply walk beyond the range of its pestilence. I knew, I'd tried. Horses stank. These new cars were loud and obnoxious, the many boats which clogged the reeking river were too full of people.

But I eventually realized that air was to be my salvation, air was to be my escape. I took to creeping across the streets by night, filching sheets from washing lines and even the occasional bed. Only clean sheets would do, of course - I wasn't about to try and escape on a cloud of lice.

It didn't take as long as you'd think: after just three nights I'd scavanged two dozen sheets. Burning the midnight oil and desperate to be gone, I stiched them together into a patchwork, the tapestry which would document my escape.

Preparing the basket was easy, finding enough food to last me a few days trifling. The challenge - the real test of my mettle - was the air. Ironically, I would need to channel the very stench from which I sought to escape. It took many nights of crafting to produce the vacuum I needed, and to learn how best to direct the air as I desired.

And so, on the eighth night, I filled my hand-stiched balloon full of the stink of the city, and I sailed the skies in search of the freedom I craved.