Snippet #2716841

Ron walked barefoot on vast grasslands stretching as far as the eye can see. Above him was a sea of blue without a cloud in sight. As he walked he could smell fragrances of wild flowers that had long since ceased to grow anywhere besides a greenery. He grinned with a wide face as he had rarely seen such a beautiful sight. Then the sky darkened until he was surrounded by nothing but darkness. Foot steps began echoing near him only to turn from one to many. Ron began to run away only to fall and wait for the footsteps...



Ron woke in a sweat. That dream had plagued him for weeks, yet he had no idea how to solve the problem. Beside him was Ashley, a prostitute that he hired regularly, who would leave once she woke. He groggily wandered through the pit that was his apartment to the kitchen, where he quickly gained access to his pick-me-ups and heavy Bloody Mary. These were what got him through the day and were never hard to come by, after all, it was New York. Stumbling through his living room, he managed to find some wranglers and mostly clean jacket, ignoring some tar stains. Before leaving he remembered to get his wallet, check for his conceal, and grab his .44, stuffing it into the vest of his jacket. He never did feel comfortable walking the streets without it.

As the young man entered the lobby of his apartment complex, he waved to the elites that held up their noses to him. They all dressed so posh and superficial while he was dressed almost like a construction worker. Back in the Dakotas there was nothing wrong with it, as even millionaires people would dress low key, so it was quite the culture shock when he came there. He shrugged as he got some coffee from the lobby coffee shop.

His mood was the highest that it had been in a while. He had sank a lot of money investing in a new arms distribution company that had been doing rather poorly with the lack of American wars. However they managed to land a contract with the South Sudanese government and with the US government, to supply weapons to rebels in Syria. What made it even better was that he held stock in a Russian company that sold arms to the Ba'athists, help keeping the fighting constant. It was worth a celebration.

Ron took a deep breath as he got to Central Park. He usually cut through it to get to his favorite BBQ joint, partially because it was faster and partially because the people in it were so interesting, which he noted as he began walking. There was some lady with cats, some screaming women, and some girl in a tree. She had this look of amazement in her eyes, which meant that she was either a tourist or a junkie. He walked over to her tree. "Never seen New York?" He asked her while sipping his coffee. He wondered if the girl could even get down on her own, as the it looked like she was pretty high up. "Do you need some help down?" Ron asked loudly.