This city has no name.

It did once, but whatever it was, it is lost to time. I merely walk on through the deserted, decrepit boroughs. Shells of whatever these buildings used to be stand stock-still as I amble on past them. I pause to look at one place, only its foundations remaining, and even those are reduced to rubble.

This city, it scares me.

I know nothing of what these people used to be. I know not if they were even people. What I do know is that I know almost nothing about this place.

I turn left. The streets are not even spared, spouting impudent plants that shoot up every which way. Small animals run through the indigenous flora.

What was this place?

I pause, standing in a sense of wonder. I then shake my head, resigning myself to the fact that some things shall never be explained to such as I. I walk on through this nameless city. I want to remember, and I want to forget. This dichotomy of conflict within me, it’s interesting.

And then I leave the city, its ruins to my back.

And it’s gone.