Was he pedaling the bike, or not? I was always behind him, stuck together like two pieces of old cardboard craft..but somehow, I don't remember just clearly how we'd gotten there.

A fence. A medium high fence, chunky, made from fine brass. An artwork, it must've been--then it got lost among these countless thoughts, these uninturruptable countless thoughts....

"Up!" he said, and saddled over this metal object.
"I heard she got the announcement," I said, the words coming from the back of my throat. It didn't belong to me; it just came. "Aren't you going to go back soon?"
Something in the far horizons caught his eye. Slowly, he went over to the other side.
He gave me the most curious stare. And; "C'mon."
I soon joined him.

We rode out into the distance without much talk.
Then there began a series of alleys--a labyrinth in this tiny corner of the world.
An underground labyrinth it was, though somehow we never dug deep enough to go under.

Some friends of ours were already waiting. There was light shining like a true silver medal, its rays hovering over their hair. Bits of conversation were exchanged, fickle and miniscule as cookie crumbs.
The tunnel-like passage was long like a pencil, never turning and absolutely never ending. 2 of them sat, far away from eachother. The alley smelt like ancient smoke and velvet, with a hint of something burning.
"Wood chips melting?" someone asked.
"Oh," I suddenly said, "Wood chips."
"What?"
"I remembered this a long time ago."
"What did you remember?"
"This...."

The earth started to rumble and treble. We were inside a zoo, a crash, a saxophone tune! The ceilings were crumbling, falling apart.
Just like that scene from 'Spirited Away'....except there was no hussle of any sort, we were all in a mixed kind of outrageous vanity,
we knew it.

"95-70-45-20," he said, "my family's business goes down to this like me. Printing cards....truly useless, truly..so here I am at 20, about to embark on this boredom."

School. She beamed as she smacked her Chemistry paper against someone's desk.

"I got a ONE HUNDRED!" she shouted.
Some people gawked. Others applauded.
I wasn't there--I was thinking about something stuck in my back, a big red panel with blueish glue glopping down. It felt like a gigantic sticky starfish.

"Fish..." I exclaimed. 
"I got a ONE HUNDRED!" she shouted.

The theme was supermarket. We were all aligned, waiting for the bathroom to clear up. The buses had gone on an unexpected strike, and our bodies felt like lumps of coal as we dragged our feet to our stools. I somehow fainted along the way--but nobody took much notice. I jolted upwards and resumed walking; was I only pretending to faint?

Many people kept on congratulating me. I smiled.

I went outside, saw that I'd come out on the most familiar street in the city. Humming, I started to walk home. Then I reckoned I'd forgotten my camera in one of the stools, so I made a quick turn and went back.

The entire city was then wiped out by a massive, beautiful song.