Futura,
the city of the damned upon the ravaged Earth,
the Earth shattered by the weapons and the inhumanity and the savagery of man,
a place where menial workers go about their miserable way,
and killers,
with little time for peace who go looking for their prey.
Futura,
a place where death calls regularly,
a place where there are blackouts,
and attacks,
and people sent into comas by the drugs companies who test out new drugs on hapless people passing by,
and everyday,
there are people with drunken hangovers,
from the bachinalian feasts upon pills,
alcohol replacements pills,
cheap and available 24 hours a day,
Futura,
a city with anger and frustration and rage,
a ferocious beast,
the city,
a city on the edge,
a city with teeth,
a city that is not a place to live if you can help it,
and definitely not a place to exist in happinness,
a destructive place with most of the population high,
or insane,
a place no good for the heart,
a place no good for the brain.