Grizzam St.

Grizzam street: Dark, gloomy and cold.
At the corner, stands an elder lady; fair height wth a hunched back. She stands wearing her best Sunday clothes. In the only beam of light, she slowly hobbles towards it.

The intersection of Saint Steven's, she hobbles at a speed slower than Heinz ketchup in a fresh, glass bottle. She approaches the pedestrian button at the cross walk. She reachers her old, skinny, boney, crippled hand out with her boney, hooked finger and presses the cold, grey button, being careful to avoid the dried gum attached to it. Mrs. Heinz lifts her creaking neck towards the sky and looks through her cataract-damaged eyes at the grey clouds. She lets out a weak breath as snowflakes start to fall.

Distracted by her Alzheimer's, Mrs. Heinz watches the small, crisp, white snow slowly drift towards the ground. The cars are backing up three blocks, polluting the city air as they idly honk and curse at each other. A cab driver gets out and angrily walks towards her, cussing and spitting all over. He lets out a volley of words towards her. Mrs. Heinz snaps out of her Alzheimer's daze and stares at the cold ground that is stained by oil and other car pollutants. The tall, Brazilian cab driver with a short beard and skinny jeans lets out another lethal volley of hate-filled words towards her. At that moment, Mrs. Heinz turns her creaking, arthritis-infested body towards the man and cars and opens her half-hinged jaw, creating a bright, shimmering, white light that starts to expand. It gets larger and larger, expanding with every second. The intense fireball of heat and colour growing on the outside of her boney, brittle jaw.

Suddenly, she releases it and it instantly vaporizes the crisp, cool snowflakes into puffs of hot steam that disappear into the air. Without any time to react, the cab driver is torched by the bright, glowing stream of energy (which by this time, was at its maximum-power). The light engulfs his body and shatters him into a million shards of anger and over-priced cab fare.

All that is left is a dark shadow stained on the concrete that had been buried by time with potholes and dents. The same second, an ear-shattering crash is heard. A cold, icy, painful wind blows through the intersection which clears the flickering dust and car pollutants away to reveal such a sight as to make the toughest man break down into a horrible sadness as if he were to cry all the water from his body.

Mrs. Heinz closes her boney, rotten, gingivitis-infested mouth and opens her encrusted eyelids and attempts to focus on the damage that she caused: cars piled up three high along with dead, rotten bodies, smahes windows and broken buildings. Mrs. Heinz picks up her purse and her bag of hair curlers, polident, hard candies and dried prunes. She takes two steps and falls down.

Mrs. Heinz takes a heavy breath and musters all of her atrophied muscles and brittle bones to stand back up. She moves her arthritis-laced body towards all of the destruction. With her final breath, she musters out her last words.
"Never again," she says as she dies.
"Never again."