Zac Whearity Dystopian Romeo and Juliet

A city. The city, their city wasn’t quite the same. It was tortuously cold, wells of frost and snow leached on buildings and car shells like tumours. A frosted bridge still stands, as though it were frozen in time over a large river; a train laid mangled and preserved perfectly keeping the condition of the wreck after the accident. A little time capsule, as it were. The city streets were the best source of refuge. The sleet and hail tend to be carried overtop the frosty buildings by the everlasting wind, it’s rarely able to make it in between the crevasses and down to the ‘roads’.

As a matter of the fact, the streets were probably the safest place to be. Safe from wind, safe from sleet and so on, but not so safe from them. No, not at all. They’re what makes the streets a scary place to be, safe, but scary. Unsurprisingly, not a lot is heard in the streets. The violent air rushed through like a constant wind tunnel howling and cackling inadvertently in its wake making any sound inaudible to the streets – unless you were close.

There was a clunk among the howling. Silence. Clunk. Silence. Then a crack and a clunk and a smash. Silence. Then a crack and a clunk and a smash and a yell and boom! Crashing down came the hotel door. The cold had cursed it, made it so weak and brittle that it basically shattered upon landing intemperately on the icy floor. Out stepped three, disconsolate looking men. Covered head to toe in rags tied together by loose pieces of cable and string, they stumbled drunkenly onto the streets.

“We men are old enough to realize that we must keep the peace!” Capulet wheezed, his breath swirling and dancing around his face as though smoking a pipe in the freezing, cursed air.

“You’re right; it’s such a shame that you’ve lived as enemies for so long. But now, my lord, what do you say to my request?” Paris said; his breath too wisped off ahead of his face; it quickly disappeared.

“What I’ve said before; my daughter is new to the world, she has not seen the change of 14 years. Give her two more years, and we shall consider her to be a bride.”

“But she’s young, she’s happy. As well, who knows how many years we have left.”

“No! This will ruin her; all my other children have been ripped from my burning heart by the tempestuous earth! She is my pride and hope in this desolate world, a shell of what it once was. However, find her, Paris, a love. My consent is only one factor in her decision. If she agrees, then I will consent to the marriage. Tonight, I shall hold a feast in the old army barracks. I will invite many survivors, and you are of course invited. It is beautiful girls that make the dark heaven bright! Ensure those that come are well dressed. You will dance among young, beautiful women tonight at the barracks, their excellence will impress the men. Scout for the one who sees my daughter. Come here, servant. Send out an invite at once! The barracks are open and welcoming to all tonight.”