Young Writers Society

The hum of the night city rang through the open windows of penthouses and homeless shelters alike, touching those inside with its intoxicating echo taking captive the millions that called this place home, a true testament to the achievements of man. The engine tick of a fleet of taxis parked by stainless Steel lamps producing an almost insect like buzz of which nobody heard over the incoherent chatter and the intoxicated footsteps of couples walking underneath. Of course, the city did not just speak, there were an abundance of smells clashing with the sounds for the attention of the mind. The scent of liquor and street food were overwhelming almost all others aside from the occasional gust of exhaust fumes, also most likely caused by a taxi given the lateness of the hour.

BANG!!! the rhythmic urban soundtrack and scent pallet had now been induced into cardiac arrest with the frightful sound of scraping metal followed by its recognisable SNAP. The nose also suffered a change of pace, what was once liquor now became the burning smell of fuel. Then the before neglected senses began to have their time in the spotlight also, with thick smoke filling the lungs creating a burning sensation in the chest as well as making breathing an increasingly difficult chore. The heat began to rise steadily at first but before long the temperature became unbearable and a few moments later … unsurvivable. Before too long the metal that had just completed scraping and snapping began to stretch and contract under the heat being applied.

The hand of death looks favourably upon situations like this, almost makes his job too easy as even your average night boozer could predict the obvious and grizzly outcome of this tale, but death knows better than that, he has suffered many a surprise before and so patiently he waits watching events unfold until he is absolutely certain that his services are required.

The only way out of a situation like this is to breathe deeply and allow the smoke to fill the gaps in your lungs before the fire reaches you as no fate is worse than that, or so they say. THUD ........ THUD .......... THUD....... CRASH the metal hatch gave way to the forces applied by its inmate who proceeded to heroically stumble and fall into the flames. Reemerging moments later drooling, gasping for air, secreting increased amounts of mucus and part mentally alight, that is to say on fire. For the minutes following they would valiantly fade in and out of consciousness in ............ out ............ in ...............out. Once regaining consciousness for the seventh time they preceded to stagger away with their once bushy (now extremely crispy) tail tucked square between their legs. Turning down an alley they crashed into every bin, cardboard box and cat possible before collapsing yet again however this time was an improvement in that consciousness remained.

A scraggy and possibly mangey ginger tabby strode over standing over the head of the collapsed. The cat however did indeed have an owner as identified by the phone number etched into his name tag which also gave the name “Biscuit”. The escapee didn't know what to make of this as that cat sure didn't look like a biscuit and the idea floated that biscuit had been killed and his collar stolen but more important things were at play than the status of the real biscuit. Biscuit (if that was his real name) began to chew, gnaw and tear at the large, hairy but also fire damaged ears which were miraculously still attached to the partly conscious individual. Surprisingly the cat still had enough left-over teeth to penetrate the skin releasing a slow trickle of blood down to and over the brow before picking up speed on the sharp profile of the grey-haired face and dropping onto the floor of the alley which had most likely seen its fair share of blood. Slowly getting back on all four legs and feeling a little more stable at least in the physical sense and now well acquainted with this particular alleyway they shifted their gaze slightly to see a ginger leech named biscuit hanging from their ear. No worries however after a quick flash of several sharp teeth and a low growl biscuit soon realised that what he was attempting to eat was in fact not yet dead and so relinquished his grip of the now even worse for wear ear.

Walking back out of the alley and into the street where a small crowd had gathered around the still burning wreck. Deciding to walk in the opposite direction of the crowd now in a much more stable fashion than before, caught a cool breeze which ran through the thick grey coat of the creature aside from the areas that had suffered from fire damage and were now bald. Progressing through the street their ears shot upright to hear a distant howl. The city itself knows many different howls the sound of dogs domesticated and stray howling at night, the sound made by less than mentally stable individuals as they walk the streets but this, this was the howl of a fire engine something which would have been much use minutes ago but nevertheless, the sentiment was appreciated. The sound of sirens soon became background noise as the oversized dog spotted some equally oversized rats scuttling along the pavement weaving in and out of the trash likely scavenging for anything a rat could call food.

Then off to one side was an area of green in the middle of all this glass and concrete. It had grass, trees and bushes all covered in different smells from different animals (mostly dogs and humans but squirrels also). Stepping into this new land the air was noticeably more gentle on the still burning lungs of this battered beast. The sound of the city remained but visually this was a place thousands of miles away from the streetlamps and taxi cabs of the world. Now able to walk on a surface other than cement the slow deliberate walk that had helped to avoid the dangers littering the city’s streets became after a few seconds of hesitation a full-blown sprit. Darting from bush to tree, smell to smell finally feeling…

Black that’s all there was just plain and simple black. There was no smell, there was no noise, there wasn’t even any burning sensation just … black. Then slowly but surely it all came back. The smells, the sounds and yes even the burning. The black it would seem was the body’s reaction to running around when in such distress, its own pain relief when adrenaline alone no longer cuts it. Just as it had so suddenly come into view the trees and grass were no more, once again it was hard cold cement holding up this four-legged mammal.

Emerging once again into the city night presented an opportunity with what could be described as a small truck or a large van but whatever its designation was sitting unattended not a wholly unusual sight but what made this stand above all others was that it was open and contained a similar bed to the ones this nighttime explorer was familiar with. Upon waking up from the deep slumber one often enjoys in the back of a van the realisation was made that as the door had been open before that was no longer the case. Panic would have been a reliable emotion to field in such a situation however any panic was soon dispelled as the hum of the nighttime city no longer rang.