If one must look at life and told to describe it, even if in one word, what would it be? he/she can think up a myriad of descriptions. Depending on their culture, language and opinions, it can range from optimism to pessimism, to straight out evolutionary jargonomics. Though all life as we know it, did come from a primordial sea, where the first single cell organisms turned into multi-cell organisms, and everything after that is history and natural resources.

But then again, if you must look at life and be told to describe it, even if in one word, what would it be?

A ocean? A mountain? A sky? A gust of wind? A flower? A metamorphosis? A pool of liquid feces?

Here I was thinking about a elaborate philosophical prognosis. But it turned out to be just my dazed mind twisting in boredom if that makes any sense, looking up at the gloss white ceiling of the library. I was me, and the others were others......white ceilings, huh?

I closed the book which I took an endeavour to read. But guess, I wasn’t really up for some Jules Verne today.

The library was not scant with people today, but it’s the just the usual amount of people, I would expect to see. Students in uniform and students not in uniform were in attendance along with people from all walks of life.

Huddled unto modernist design chairs and seats, this was quite the public library to come to. It was not brand new, but it was refurbished, and now, in partnership with a private company was presenting a new kind of public-private reading space, where aesthetics and the affordability combined to make some new Chimera of a library, though sadly they don’t use the Dewey system here.

I was sitting in one of the seats, enjoying the heat inside, as it was severely cold outside. The only other thing, I think huge crowds are useful for besides being good target practice, is for heating stuff up. Especially little children, who are walking and talking cute heating bags.

But I finally thought to head out into the world, I got up from my sitting and walked in the direction of the place, I picked the book from. I put it back on the shelf, though not sure wheither it was besides Natsumi Sōseki and Murakami or Hajime Kamoshida and Harry Turtledove.

Seriously, who arranges these shelves?

But regaedless, I put it back. And I shouldered my bag, and after checking my black hoodie, and pants, I headed off into the world.

The world, was in fact, just concrete and several buildings all over the street.

I started walking down passing the building that housed the library. The buildings on this street were made in a distinct 1800s Parisian style of architecture.

People sure do love the Parisians more than the French.

My vision aimed directly at the end of the path, then I would turn left and get on to somewhere...though I think there’s another path that branched out to the commercial district..and then..something is definitely not right.

And as my instinctive plot device detecting senses would indicate, a shriek came to my hearing, and as I turned my head to see.

Another shriek sprung up, with more whaling of pain. On the street path besides mine, laid a man bloody but still somewhat alive.

Infront of him, was another man who was actively stabbing a woman with a knife.

He was holding her by the hair, and he was stabbing her in the chest with so much ferocity, that it looked as if he was a child being given a knife to wield for the first time, and he was having fun with it.

My brain activated my fight or flight response, and running was becoming the best choice for me.

But my body hesitated, and there I stood, just about when his eyes met mine, and he let go of the woman who was on the brink of death or was dead, I mean, look at those wounds, even a zombie would die with that many wounds.

The bloody bare chested man stood up from kneeling, then he to my surprise, started unzipping his pants.......and took his underwear with a picture of a bearded guy with copyright messiah typing on it...wait, is that Jesus Christ?

With his bare naked body, he stepped forward, and his jingle berries rang up and down. And he swayed his hands towards me, one of them was holding the knife

And he opened his mouth, trying to say something.

“Ephesians 6:12, For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against powers, against the rulers of darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” He spoke gently, though menacingly.

Okay, man, not the best time for trying to recruit me into Christianity or Judaism, but thanks for the offer, and thanks for not being Muslim, cause the notion of a Muslim guy stabbing bunch of people in Asia is kinda cliched and gay.

But impeccably, he more and more stepped forward, while I stepped backwards. And all I could focus on was his rodpole. And all that ravaged my mind was “Am I gonna be raped?”

Fear took hold, and I was on verge of pissing my pants. And so, I mustered up the courage, and said the most rational words I could muster.

“Please....don’t kill me..I don’t....wanna...die”

Shit, did I pee my pants?

But, he kept inching on towards me, and I kept stepping away...until he took his knife and tried plunging toward me. I hurried back and dodged it.

And by then, plot armour had come to save me from being raped and killed by a rip-off Abrahamic messiah.

Several UNPF officers came charging in to help me, and the guy now diverted his focus to them and took a run at them.

“TRAIN YOUR SONS IN THE FAITH, MAKE THEM OBEY AND THUS BE LOVED BY JESUS!!” He shouted, charging at them at full speed.

Only to be made silent by a hale of bullets from their guns.

And I along with several of the people who froze in fear, ran out of there like we were getting out of Nanjing.

While running away, I looked back, and the man stood up once more, only to walk a few more paces and then fall down again just before the peacekeepers, who I suppose were little frightened by a bullet ridden knife wielding nude maniac stood up and walked up to them.