“City of Glass”
The skyscrapers pierce the azure sky, rising until up and up even after they reach the clouds, going up and up thousands of stories tall, up–up, always extending.
The City of Glass. The Kingdom of Skyscrapers. Skyscrapers taller than any others in the whole universe. They rise, up, up, up–seemingly never ceasing in their elevation. The architecture is magical–fictitious even in this advanced age. It is only when one visits do they finally believe the stories–stories that have been passed on from father to son, from mother to daughter, from grandparents to grandchildren.
It is a legend, surely–a legend and nothing more, they all say. A legend inside the homes of many–until they actually see for themselves. Until they witness the awe-striking, amaranthine beauty.
Walking through the streets, below the alabaster, crystal, glass, emerald, ruby, amethyst, and sapphire towers, one walks in a fantasy. The feeling is like a dream–a dream of imagination and disbelief, where one expects to wake up and discover that it was all fake. Yet none ever wake–for it’s not a dream.
The towers are real. Very, very real. And when you walk up to one, the wall of the building rises farther than you can see. But when you enter it is a different experience entirely. Some are filled with translucent stairways, circling upward and leading to different floors. Some are filled with clear boards, raised by transparent strings, all moving together and shifting here and there in perfect grace, taking people to various floors and rooms, never colliding with one another.
In the heart of the city lies perhaps the most magnificent of them all. A Cathedral made entirely from pure diamonds, as clear as glass, said to rise far above all the others. Yet once again one can hardly believe it, nor can one even confirm the tale as each building rises higher than the eye can see. The top of the Cathedral holds a bell-tower–bells that ring above every other commotion of the city, a magnificent ringing that reverberates throughout the entire planet.
When the bells toll, the whole population stops to listen to the beauty–the sounds that never get old or become any less amazing then the first time one hears them, ringing morning, noon, and night. They are entirely captivating and bewildering, amazing and awe-inspiring, fantastic and fanciful.
They are the Glass City Bells–perhaps even more captivating than the towers themselves, for the pitches and harmonies, tolls and chimes, all create a beautiful symphony.
But one morning, the bells miss their toll. The cityfolk slowly stop their work, looking at each other’s watches to make sure the time was right. But the bells never ring, and the first tower falls.
Admist a giant uproar of shards of glass and dust, the Cathedral crumbles, shattering, showering the town with the powder and splinters of broken diamonds. People scream in panic and confusion, shrilling voices piercing the air. Some don’t even move as the building falls on top of them, still stuck there unbelieving of what their eyes tell them. In a matter of moments the Cathedral has completely collapsed.
The day ended.
Author’s Note: A quick write-off I wrote in ~15 minutes, with a little editing. I hope to flesh it out sometime, going into more detail on each of the buildings as well as expanding the last three paragraphs. My friend John decided to speed paint based off of my story, which is posted at the top of the story, and I think it compliments it very nicely.