Writing - Sixed

Writing - Sixed

A faint veneer of dust covered the streets of Markesh.  If a person looked too closely, they might see that same faint veneer on the skin and in the hair of everyone on the streets of Markesh.  It was a city of gravel, dust and neon.  Post-modern steel and glass had given way to grafitti, dried black chewing gum and the stink of piss.

The once-promise of a bright future with robotic servants now a disarray beneath junkies and whores.  Markesh was dust and regret.