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Urban Jungle

By: Joshua Lin

The harsh cacophony of construction sounds woke me from my dreamless slumber. Looking at
the time, I rushed through my daily routine, leapt out of the apartment door and took the concrete
steps two at a time, strangely relishing the echoing effect they had down the hallway. Emerging
in the middle of 42nd street, which was nearly always crowded with taxis blaring out their good
mornings through dull horns, I took a quick right and blended in with the crowd easily. I
navigated the streets with the ease of one who takes regular night walks, sliding in and out of the
crowd much like a fish in water. This was my hometown, New York City.

After 10 minutes of walking, I reached the workplace. I worked in Commonwealth Bank as an


accountant. Just one of several hundred other employees at firms such as this one, all marching
in regimental urban suits. Dashing in, I managed to squeeze into an elevator, the door shutting
with a sense of finality. As the elevator clunked upwards, which by the way produced a very nice
beat to tap your foot to, I prepared myself mentally for the ordeal known as work. Pirouetting out
of the elevator, I straightened my tie, flattened my hair with my hand, and patted down my pants
before walking into the office with the air of somebody who was anything but late.

Parkins. Youre late. Again.

Ah, greeted by my very own angel, Mrs Scanta, my boss. Lovely body, lovely voice, personality
could use a little work.

Sorry about that, traffic accident down on 31st, unavoidable I spouted, giving her a sly wink.

We all know that you live on 42nd, Parkins. Now get to work. I want those reports in by 11, or
youll be packing. Got it? Scanta remonstrated, eyes and face all stern. But experience born
from years of reading peoples faces told me that this was but another mask, concealing her true
emotions.

Right on, your majesty I said with a flourish, bending so low that my back cracked with an
audible snap. Hastening upwards, I spied out of the corner of my eye the ghost of a smile before
Scanta stalked off to her office, twisting her legs in what she evidently thought to be a dignified
retreat.

The results in the reports ended up being extremely tedious and painstaking to calculate, but with
a little help from my friend the internet, and a lot of help from my friend Mr Fudge, I managed to
get them done in 30 minutes. Standing up, I paced over to my solitary window, and stared down
at the people below me, winding their way about this concrete jungle. Each little blob down there
was full of life, full of their own individual story, yet nobody said a word. In this city, our faces
were anonymous, and our stories, untold. Just men, I suppose, marching in regimental urban
suits.
Hey, get back to work! Scanta appeared at my door frame, an expression halfway crossed
between a scowl and a smirk upon her face.

Your majesty, if it so pleaseth you, I have completed the reports I ejaculated, handing the
reports to her If you requireth my assistance, Ill be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat. With

another wink, I left her standing in the doorway. Ah women, God sure had the right idea when he
created them.

I dived into the crowd for the second time that day, weaving this way and that, gathering small
snippets of conversation from all sides. In the workplace, there were shops on the first level,
however a real man of the city knew that the top-notch shops hung in the outskirts. Following
Parkins law of inverse quality(made it myself), the closer you are to the centre of a city, the
worse your food will be. Thus, I didnt stop walking for 15 minutes, and then decided upon a 7
dollar taco. Taco in hand, I took the long road back, following the trees in the botanical gardens.
As I walked deeper and deeper, trees pressing in on me from both sides, I was pulled back into a
time long past, a time oftentimes I struggled to forget..

It was a forest clearing. About 9, maybe 10 years ago. Autumn sunlight filtered past the lazy
clouds and through the canopy made by the trees, giving everything a speckled appearance. My
father was the only other person in the clearing. A frightful man, short stature, but nevertheless
had an aura few could compare with.
Say that again, my son?
His voice, usually headstrong and full of emotion, now quavered, as if unsure of what to do for
the first time in his life.
I said, I want to move to the city. Lots of others have. The whole world is advancing, and it
would be useless not to use these advancements!
Silence. I wondered if Id gone to far. Preparing for the rage that would follow, I was surprised
when my father instead, sat down upon the ground and rested his head in his hands.

I knew this day would come. When the city would claim one of my sons. I knew it. It is
inevitable, the bright lights, the allures that a city can bring.
A deep raspy breath was taken.
Go my son. I do not like it, but I have no choice. But remember, whatever you do, you are
always a man of the forest, you hear me? Now go, before I change my mind.
Father stubbornly looked upon the ground, hiding his face in his hands.
Thank you, and goodbye father.
I turned on my heel and started to walk out.
Wait Chavo. feel free to come back any time you want.

A honk from a nearby bus brought me back to reality, and I realised that I had tears in my eyes.
But Im still not ready to go back. Im sorry father, but this is a place Ive grown to love. This
concrete jungle, that has treated me so well for the past 10 years, I simply cant leave it. The car
horns, the construction noises, the clerical work, the faceless mass of the crowd, Ive fallen in
love with it all. Maybe next year Ill come home.
Maybe next year.

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