XMAS SPECIAL

Darkness. Snow. Wind. Christmas Eve.
Emmerly Karrson leaned against the cold railings of the rooftop, and looked down at the streets below him. He still hasn’t, and he believes he will never, get used to the height here: The brightly illuminated streets were but cracks and crevices in the stone that was the dark night, from which only vague and misty light shone. Vehicles below were hardly distinguishable, merely points of brighter light of various colours set against the lit streets. Some several thousand meters it felt to be, from his eyes to the the unreal ground, though how many of them there were in truth he knew not, and wished not to know. Hologram billboards lined the vast walls of the building that he stood atop of, and shrouded that of may others, all of equal height, that stood in a solemn silence around him. The buildings, much the same, filled every block of the city, crowding it until all that stood between them was the space taken by the roads and streets: the city was a chessboard, only each square towered into the heights.