Ugh, I got mad writers block after I got my setting. I need some people to basically suck my e-penis and stroke my ego so I know it's worth my time to continue writing.
Here's what I have so far.
The clang of the tram as it putted across the gray and brown smoked-out urban cityscape was more than enough reminder that today was going to be one of those days... You know, one of those days where everything is an infinite inconvenience.
On my way into the city I generously gave up my seat to an elderly woman of about fifty-five or so. Her skin was pale and wrinkled, and she possessed a cough that wreaked of death in both odor and sound. Everything about her was saturated with her looming death. I wouldn't be surprised if she passed within the next ten or so days.
I recognized her too. She was Deloris Finch, widowed heir of the Finch Dirigible Company. She sold the company to the Thompson brothers, who combined their extensive engineering knowledge to make the greatest airships Europe had ever seen. This frail shell of a women invested every last penny she owned in her own healthcare. That is precisely why she rode the rusted out tram into the city-center each and every morning.
I stood for the remainder of the tram ride. Each stop jerking me to and fro. I nearly lost my balance with each change in pace and each shake in the line. Mrs. Finch left the tram before I did, but her seat was quickly filled by faceless vultures cluttered around her seat. The public transport here is an absolute abomination compared to most private industry. A broken pipe in the tram-car was bellowing thick hot steam directly into the side of my head on an already scorching summer day. Beads of sweat were building up on the rims of the goggles I had placed atop my forehead.
Stepping out of the tram and up into the edges of the downtown core, a gust of dusty wind blew by the street corner, layering dirt onto my already sweat-drenched face. I pulled a handkerchief from the inside breast-pocket of my vest and wiped myself.
Crossing the train tracks on the way to my interview, I waited several minutes for trains coming and going to pass. The building was in my sights, but the trains that passed by did not stop for what seemed like hours. In my downtime, I began daydreaming. Try as a might, I can't help but think of women. On my mind now was Lysha, my first crush from my childhood. I never had the guts to ask her if she was interested in dating, but I always go through the motions in my head of what life would be like if her and I were together.
Eventually the trains had stopped and I failed to realize it immediately. One surly individual in his top-hat piloting what looked to be a six-legged steam-powered crawler - complete with bellowing smoke stacks and exposed gears - sounded a rather large horn in my direction telling me to get going. I snapped back into it with several running steps and headed toward the giant spire ahead of me.
The spire was the eastern-most wing of the government division for public maintenance and centralized planning. I was hardly interested in the politics of this place, but the upper floors of the building had several dirigible docks and was the only place where large packages could be handled and received from across the globe. My interview here was for a job in just that - the delivery of large packages.
blah abrupt end
Anyway, I basically plan on continuing this with the dude delivering a giant beast, kinda like a loch ness monster, on his airship. Basically he'd be stopped by eco-terrorists / pirates and then the beast would wake up and start to FSU.
Yeah, so convince me to keep going, because I haven't felt like writing since I hammered out what I have now.
