Prompt# 107 - In absentia - Down a Hill - Tekia - original

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: Down a Hill
Fandom: original
Prompt: In Absentia
Warnings: none
Rating: G
Summary: Continued from here and here. This time, I try to have fun in a city filled with only myself.


I set up the street for bilking.
A few of the cars had been locked, but I had learned long ago how to unlock them with a hanger or tool I took from the tow truck. I moved them onto side roads and smiled as I stared down the road, clear of any cars or people. I grinned and looked up at the sky, a hand over my eyes. I wondered how fast the earth’s atmosphere was going to recovered from the smog. Not in my lifetime, I was sure.
Turning back to my cleared road, I walked back to where I had parked my bike and hopped on. The road was nearly two miles long, from the middle of town, where I was, to the culs du sac. All of it downhill. I used to ride my bike down this road when I lived with my mother, at the bottom of the hill, and loved it. Even more, I knew I was going to love it now that I didn’t have to pause every time a car drove by.
I kicked off and drifted down the hill, neither peddling nor steering. The wind lifted my hair, hair that I left down on my shoulders now that there was nobody to see the mess that it was. People had always mocked my for the frazzled strands, but with nobody here, I felt free. Freer.
My eyes slid closed and I tipped my head back to bask in the sun that was now nice rather than overbearing. With one hand, I moved the handlebars to stay on the street as I gathered speed, going ever faster down the hill. As I passed the midway point I remembered that I didn’t have front brakes on the bike. With a jerk, I caught the other handle and laughed as I fingered the useless handbrake, still gathering speed down the hill.
The back breaks didn’t work either and with that I realized that I should perhaps acquire myself a new bike, now that money didn’t matter. And there was nobody to mind that I was going to take it without permission.
At the bottom of the hill, the road drifted to the left, and I coasted to a stop on the flat surface. I turned the wheel left again and went down the dead end, turning around at the curb dividing the street.
That had used to be a road until the bridge over the tacks had been built. Now I had to lift the bike over my shoulder and walk with it over the curb and tracks. I always hurt myself on this part, the wheels twisting to bang into my back, the rocks tripping me up.
Once on the other side, I dropped the bike and idly peddled down the street. From here, there was nowhere else to go that wasn’t uphill, so I forced myself up the bridge, it being the smallest of the three hills. Going down the other side, I moved down another street, then another until I was once again at the riverfront.
I leaned against the thin metal rail at chest height and leaned over the brown water rushing past. It was cooler down here because of the water. Birds had the same idea that I did and were diving into the water, sending crystal droplets into the air. One bird caught my attention as it fluttered on the bank in a small pool, chirping happily.
Sadness swelled in my chest and I wondered what happiness I would find. Single moments, like riding a bike with no breaks down a hill? I leaned my elbows on the rail and rested my back against it, turning away from the river. I would never fall in love, for who was there to fall in love with.
Shaking my head, I stomped my foot, scattering the birds. I walked to the fountain and walked through the cool water. There was no point in dwelling on thoughts like that. I splashed as much as I could, shouting out into the empty sky.
Soaked, I walked down the main street, pulling my bike along, my shoes squeaking with each step. I passed the gas station and I wondered if I could get any gas out when the cars’ ran out. Then I saw the court house.
I had always loved this old building. I loved the plaque in the front yard of the Indian, his feathers bold and beautiful. The doors were open, not locked, and I entered, the marble under my feet causing my shoes to squeak louder. There were more steps up, then the hall that lead left and right, and forward to the stairwell. I turned right and went into the courtroom, silent as I reflected that one was always silent in a courtroom.
I sat behind the gate, the pew reminding me of the church that I never attended. Then an idea came to me.
I hopped to my feet and opened the gate. I walked past the tables and around the judge’s bench. I sat in the leather chair. There was a glass still half full of water, dust on the top. A closed pitcher was beside it. Greedily, I pulled off the lid and gulped the water down.
Once the water was gone, I looked out over the room. The windows were large and the room was well lit, more dust drifting in the beams. I leaned back in the chair, the springs creaking. I folded my arms behind my head and smiled.
“Due to mass death in absentia,” I said to nobody in a loud voice, “I appoint myself in charge of this city. Mayor Me.”
I closed my eyes, rocking softly on the chair. The town could do with a new name, to go with the new leadership.
I laughed, a short bark that I didn’t recognize as my own. “I’ll call it Solitaireia. In fact, this whole country will be called Solitaireia.”
Shooting out of the chair, I pulled out a paper and pen. I wrote down that name, not wanting to forget it. I nodded to myself, satisfied.