Prologue

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Stench.

I suppose most people get used to it, but I've been here for three months and I still stumble backwards when I walk out the door. You can't do anything outside, with every breath your lungs burn from the foul odor, and the urge to spill the contents of your stomach is so strong the only option is to turn around and walk back inside, hacking dreadfully.

When I first moved here, my neighbors told me about them. At first I thought they were lying, such ideas were so far-fetched from my civilized idealism. It really was a ridiculous notion. I wish it had been just that: a notion. But no, no, they had to be right, didn't they?

Now I live here, with a mask over my nose and mouth anytime I venture outdoors. Anyone else might have moved, but my cursed stubbornness keeps me rooted here. That, and, well, there's no-where else for me to go. This is the only place I can even hope for survival. The only place to hide.

Sometimes I feel bad walking out with a bandanna over my face. I feel like I'm ashamed of their scent, ashamed of them. Maybe I am. They aren't exactly normal, for sure. Well, neither am I. I have no excuse to be ashamed of them, it would be the same as being ashamed of myself, and I really, really, don't like the sound of that. That's a... nevermind.

So here I was, living my life, avoiding the outdoors when I could, and certainly avoiding them. It was fine, I was fine, I'm assuming they were fine. My small world was just that: small. I liked it, it was just right.

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Welcome to Snippets, my followers and passers-by! I hope you are along for the ride, and that you enjoy it. As you sail, please remember to tell the cook what your preferences are (structural-criticism, of course!) and let me know if the sailing conditions are pleasing (not that I can always perfect them, storms come, you see...) and lastly be sure to try out the Titanic pose from the bow--it's quite a view!

I'll see you next update!

~ThePirateElf

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