No other choice

The Tizaro station wasn’t half as fancy as the one in Harpoon City, during the journey the tracks passed through a glass tunnel at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean and even high above in the sky. We had to change bubbles at Nafaglar Intercontinental, from where it took another half an hour to arrive at our destination.

Tizro was a dusty town, the first look of it reminded me as one of those cities where rodeos took place and expected a cowboy to burst out of the walls of the homes any minute.

Just as we stepped out of the station, brownness filled my eyes.

The homes were brown, the roads were sandy brown and the sun also seemed to glow brown over the brown fields.

The brown mountains stood tall at the end of my vision.

People didn’t seem to notice our arrival and continued their work with the same dedication, Brio halted in front of a motel.

“We, stopping?”, Suhani asked, half closing her eyes.