The city slumbered, restlessly. Her human inhabitants, once her lifeblood, had become a parasite, a virus, wreaking havoc as they rampage through their tiny lives. The leeches leave nothing but destruction in their wake.
The human cells treat each other as poorly as they treat their host; however, the city felt no comfort in this knowledge. Her ears rang with cries from victims of crime, both illegal and immoral; crimes committed by strangers and loved ones, the acts as cold and desperate as the perpetrators themselves.
Even at this hour, the city’s veins and arteries, once so calm and serene, thrummed with activity. Feeling hindered by the pace of their legs, the human cells devise increasingly inventive delivery methods to speed the spread of their violent mayhem. Now, harsh metal boxes jockey for position in the city’s streets, spewing toxins and noise, choking her with pollution.
The city fondly remembers a time when lighting was soft and sparse, lending a beautiful and mysterious allure to her streets. Now, the city keeps her eyes closed against the harsh lighting, designed to highlight the ugly, vandalised façade of her aging buildings, once so pristine and striking.
The city wept for her lost youth and beauty. The ravages of time and humanity marched across her littered landscape. She felt tired; tired of the constant struggle to provide for her ungrateful human inhabitants; weary of fighting to regain a symbiotic relationship, so heavily weighted against her.
The city rose and shrugged, sloughing off her human skin.