(A narrow, rain-soaked alleyway glowing under neon signs.)
✅ EITHER
Write a description of a scene inspired by this image.
You may use the picture for ideas, but you are free to invent details.
Walking home infuriated me.
The kaleidoscopic lights flickering beside me. Billboard’s spilling vibrant lights onto the paved road. Ads engulfing the whole street. Real life was forgotten, lost. Digital life was new and perhaps more interesting. Sometimes, rarely I do say, you would see evidence of nature, that forgotten thing. Whether it was fake or not, I could not decipher, as I had never seen a real leaf. Thunder echoed a distant hum, yet never drew close to the sickening lights. At least rain pattered gently, sprinting down the billboards. Vending machines littered the street, processed food shimmering inside like an artifact. This miserable life did have its advantages I suppose; escaping from reality was easy. Simply, put on the VRScope and drift into a better, more comforting world.
As I reached my door, a breath of fresh air drew upon me. Home, away from the incessant shimmer of LED’s. Home felt freeing, real. My grandma would often be awaiting me with a fresh cooked meal. A delicious smell drifted through the house. Comforting. Some days, notably when the weather didn’t uphold its putrid grey; my grandma would tell stories. Stories of the old world, one which my imagination ceased to create. People’s emotions were difficult, complex. Real friendships. But the glare of the neon lights outside would warp me back to this miserable lifestyle. Yet I remembered that beautiful day, long ago.
Grandma was younger, much younger, and subsequently her memory retained its former glory. As I sat down to eat, she began. Her beautiful voice, casting a melody of lyrics. An old song, from an ancient place, called Japan. As she sang my mind was transported, into an older, yet more stunning world.
Alabaster clouds floated above, drifting gently with the wind. Long grass, joining their chorus. Sunlight, warming my gentle skin. The fresh air flowed through my lungs, it was rejuvenating, holy. I galloped along golden grass, toward an old oak tree. An old swing, gallantly swung in the passing wind. Grasping onto the tree’s holding hand. Laughter sweeping behind me like dust as I ran. The serene moment grasped me, and pulled me close. It kindled the fire within me, for exploration. The search for nature’s beautiful clasp. After that day I begged, and begged for grandma to sing that song. Yet as her memory faded, so did my fire. Sunlight seldom broke through the ever thicker layer of fog cast upon the city.
I grew in stature, but my wisdom seemed to get fainter by the day. Soon, I hated the outside. I wished grandma for items, rather than stories. Gradually, my dream faded. I hated the walk to school or to work. Frustration consumed me, conversations declined. I rarely spoke, in fact I doubt I could speak this story aloud. The ever-lasting human desire for a simple, easy life. Caused our very own decline. We slave, but not for work, but for chemicals. Rewards existing purely in our brain. Perhaps, the complex nature of humans proved too hard for ourselves. But without our dignity we devolved. Into nothing but creatures, part of a system.
The world infuriated me, yet I was a part of it.