Inspiriert von einer Mischung aus Ill Bill und The Kinks.____________
We're standing on top of the world. More precisely, on top of The Highest Building Of The World. Not much difference there.
They used to be jaw-dropped by people looking like ants when it all started. The high buildings, that is. Now they don't even bother looking down any more since there ain't no ants, there's no cars to be seen, just fog and dust coming up from this rotten piece of shit called the city.
There used to be more than one, Nanna told me, loads of cities, towns, even stuff like villages. Or forests. I'm not having any of this, I don't care about the old folks mourning, I like it here.
On top of the world.
I flip my cigarette butt down to join all the dirt, smile at the thought of hitting someone. Unlikely, these days hardly anyone goes for walks anymore. I love walking, the tension of not knowing what's around the corner, not to be safely locked away in a vehicle or house – all those whimps too scared of what's out there.
Nothing.
Nothing is out there. I've walked the city, I know what I'm talking about. Even when the subway takes me to former Germany I'm barely excited, definetely not pissing my pants. Never been there, have you? All those Gothic Revivals, the werewolf wannabes, Frankenstein at his best. All sick to the bone cause they didn't pay attention. Bribed the wrong people, I dare say. Recon it's the most fucked-up district of all.
Former Switzerland kept all the money and offers shelter to all the rich bastards, thus allowing former Europe to be the navel of the city with all the government dudes and scientist freaks to happily perform incest without anyone interfering. High walls keep crazy Germans and angry French from attacking that final frontier. You didn't know that? I thought so.
The district formerly known as North America has been burned to the ground a century ago. Pissing too many people off, I recon. It took them ages to recover, but finally they got the spirit and stood up again.
They built The Highest Building Of The World some years ago. Everyone calls it by that name, no one refers to it as the Watchtower, despite the much lesser amount of syllables. Not much watching there, it was planned to be the ultimate surveillance funhouse, and then the anarchists started the flame war – literally.
They don't have money for cameras good enough to see though thick smoke, making your eyes itchy and your sight quite short. I like that.
I like being able to wear a gas mask wherever I go without some idiot asking me why I cover my face, I like gangs being forced to stay inside cause they don't cope with the tainted air, I like the tough, ruthless guys that are about in the streets. My mum calls me rat, because I adapt to every situation perfectly. My nanna calls me whore, because I spend most of my time not giving a shit about her morals and ideals. My friends call me black widow, which has always been an euphemism, a ridiculous one in my case.
Well, as I said, we're on top of the world, you and me. You misjudged me, what a shame, you're quite nice to look at. Yeah, I know, without the mask your face is going to be ruined soon, you're not as used to air as I am. I'm glad I captured pictures. Don't struggle, well, I don't mind if you do, but you'll be in way more pain if you do.
Maybe you wish to return to your save house, mating with your save wife, play with your save children. The safe zones' defenses are crumbling, and all you safe people will be infected and crying and raped and dying.
Stop trying to offer me a deal. I've been furious once, I won't be again.
I'm not like everybody else.
. 
)