Fleeting

*This story is actually the 10 sentence writing prompt using a word from a book (I chose fleeting), because I don't have premium access I'm writing it here.


In spite of the city’s attempt at choking out the skyline with ever growing building complexes, the sky was clear and bright that morning. Hurrying home, she hummed the same tune that was blasting out of a nearby SUV and rushed across streets during breaks in traffic. The noise and chaos of the streets never bothered her though, she enjoyed the bustling sounds of a place she had always called home: New York City. She said she would be here until the day she died, because nothing could beat the adventure–and above all food–that the great city had to offer. She even quite liked the smell; damp streets and concrete, wafting chimichangas from her favorite food vendors, and she even liked the musky trash smell that was always present. While it was not everyone’s idea of paradise, it was all she had ever known; it was home. But life on the streets is not easy; as she made her way across the traffic to her cozy hole hide-away, her steps were not quick enough to avoid the oncoming tire. The sky was still blue, the music still playing, and the wheel still turning as she lay flat against the rank pavement. Life is fleeting when you're a rat.

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