A cold black day in the city.
Erected on once fresh and living soil, the drab skyscrapers dominate the landscape in a hubristic attempt to conquer nature. Old buildings not high or new enough shed their concrete tears, clogging up the air with dust and refuse. People are wandering the streets, breathing in the cement poison, blackening their hearts in industrious greed. The office building moans.
Another one in the elevator, another one up, another one down. Employees travelling the elevator shafts like lifeless grey blood cells in poisoned arteries, awaiting their consummation. Another one is fired, another one promoted. People living like drones in a perverted hive, serving only the unseen queen of work. The buzzing, the chaos, the hopes and dreams destroyed. No satisfaction. The TV set is broadcasting.
Alarm clocks ringing, not waking up man, but putting him back to sleep. No dreams. Families eating together and pointless chattering. Quick to work, back again slow. Countless lives, everything happening at once. Disharmony.
Far away, a field. Untouched, the trees wiggle in the wind, giving way to the forces of nature contently and at peace. White clouds dot the sky, the sun casting rays through small openings on the crops below. An old man with a scythe, sweat on his brow.
He looks at you.