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A lonely car drove past.He crossed the street and turned left. The street lights shone meekly above him as he walked along the long half of the elevator. His granddad had stored his harvest there. His father had worked there. Now, it just stood there as a monument to Artie's failure in escaping the crash of the not quite town of his birth.He picked up a stone and looked for a window to throw it through. There were none. Only a few scraps of plywood here and there, some open space, and spider webs. With a loud grunt, he threw the stone against a concrete silo, twice as tall as the two store shops that sat across from it. It made a small noise as it struck the side. Artie strained to hear even that result of his violence.Artie leaned against a telephone pole and gentle knocked the back of his head against it. Lips pulled back, his upper teeth ground against his lower. He closed his eyes tight and sucked his breath through his clenched jaws. It escaped as a sigh like a snake's hiss. His. He needed a master program; the chance of destroying data while trying to extract it was deemed too great for apprentices and mere archivists. Yakhir would have to track down his master tomorrow and beg him. 'Strike that thought, ' he chided himself, 'he would humbly request him to take a crack at the cubes.' He still had difficulty separating friend from enemy in his new reality.His thoughts cleared as he stepped into the evening air and wished the watchman a good evening. Yakhir ran as fast as he could down the mountain without endangering his balance, and into the winding streets. Of course Effie's Café was halfway on the other side of the town and he had to offer more "pardon's" than usual as he raced through the thoroughfares. He didn't knock anyone down this time.He turned the corner and spied Azzi sitting outside the café by himself. The little establishment was a favorite haunt because it sat on a dead end street off of another small street, away from the thoroughfare. Only.
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