A stream of consciousness type thing.
Cities are buzz and noise and move move move. Cities are everything piled up on top of everything else and people and things and more people. They are stress and rush and constant go go go. Never a quiet moment, never a silent second.
The countryside is the gentle buzz of bees, the softest noise of a faraway farm and constant movement of grass swishing in the breeze. It is everything spread out, reaching on forever and peace and calm and more peace. It is permanent movement without the rush, a subtle business that doesn’t tire in quite the same way. Quiet moments a-plenty, minutes of not-quite silence that feel like a soothing breath.
Both are good in their own way, the city provides the adrenaline, the pulse of life and energy that propels you forward but tires you out so much sooner. The countryside is the heartbeat, the natural rhythm of life that soothes the soul, it’s a different kind of tired. An exhaustion from fresh air instead of the weariness of city stress. But it lacks the drive and the push, why move when where you are is so pleasant?
They breathe and pulse like living beings, one endlessly going forward through the night while the other rests but still growing and moving and living.
Tales written from a prompt in just 10 minutes.
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