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The World Behind the Wall

Novel By: Lady Elizabeth

Aurora leads the city life, enjoying her neighborhood and the nightlife it brings. But one night out, things get a little too real for this city girl, and she finds herself in another reality altogether! Somehow she finds herself a major player in the survival of this foreign place. Will she be able to escape, and come back to reality? Or is it all just a bad dream? View table of contents...


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Submitted:May 5, 2009    Reads: 260    Comments: 22    Likes: 7   

I loved the way my high heels sounded on the pavement between 32nd Street and 34th Street. Like the sound of rain on a tin roof, they were rhythmic in their light thrumming. I had the great privilege of living on 34th Street, an up-and-coming neighborhood for artists and lovers of art alike. That meant that surrounding coffee houses were aplenty, so it was easy enough to satiate my obsession with mocha lattes. I had visited a total of 15 coffee shops within a 4 block radius, and by far, The Grounds on 32nd had offered the liveliest atmosphere, the best service, and the most decadent and uplifting mocha latte I'd ever tasted. You could call it my little cup of heaven, my morning muse, my weakness.

Tonight, however, I had decided on an evening stroll to my favorite little coffee shop. I figured it was a relatively safe neighborhood, so why not take a chance and indulge myself a little? I had definitely had a taxing day at work. As my thoughts continued along my little inner pity party, my feet followed their own well-tread path along the ill-kept sidewalk towards the coffee shop.

I walked with my purse bouncing at my hip. I could feel the contents as I moved: a small leather wallet, a cell phone, and my favorite shade of pink lipgloss. From the street, I could already see the blinking neon sign, the steam rising from the street grill in front of the shop door, and I envisioned myself sitting and slowly sipping that heavenly brew. The gray wool pencil skirt I'd worn to work that day made me itch in discomfort, but too soon my suffering would end and turn to great pleasure. At least my top was soft enough to counter-balance the unsettling effect the wool had on my psyche. Thank goodness for cashmere.

A light breeze kissed my face as I walked, tickling my neck and blowing strands of long blonde hair out of my face. The music of the close-at-hand traffic hummed softly in my ears. Yellow cabs whizzed by and honked, adding their own beats to the rhythm of the night. And so it was, somewhere between 34th Street and 33rd Street, that I realized just how wonderful of a sensation overload walking in the city at night could be. I should definitely do this more often, I thought to myself as I approached the end of 33rd and the beginning of 32nd. My heaven was so close now I could almost taste it.

As I stepped off the curb of one block, the alleyway to my right loomed over me in its blackness. Ahead of me, two men leaned against the brick siding of a closed pizzeria. I noticed how their eyes followed me as I passed, their hands slowly coming out of their jean pockets. Their postures seemed to tense just a hair. I held my breath as I passed, putting my handonmypurse for reassurance. My mind went to the little can of pepper spray - which also resided in the bag at my hip- that my father had bought me before thebig move here, and I realized with a chagrin that I had never even thought to check its expiration date.


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