Monday, January 30, 2017

100 Words a Day 1011

The red soot vomited from the massive chimneys stamped across the planet’s surface was impossible to clean. The vice dens did their best, wiping everything down, sweeping, running noisy air filters. But it was never enough to get the smell of burnt chemicals out of the air, nor completely remove the red film that settled on every surface. The proprietors kept their lighting low and burned incense imported from the nearby Argilous system. After shift, the coughing, ashen, and spindly workers oozed out of their factories, through the neon-framed door of their favorite recreational establishment, and drugged the pain away.

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