Meaxks

 The town of Obit had seen better days. Residential streets that were once alive with activity now sat vacant. The mining industry that had fueled the small town's prosperity abated several years ago. With it, families left in search of a better home, except for a few hardened clans. These families populated what was left of the deteriorating two-story houses of Obit in some cases waiting for fortune and in other cases, for death.    A bizarre sight walked down one particular street in the maze of abandoned houses, two young girls, one with a large scythe, the other with a staff that ended in a crescent and both in dark hooded robes.      

     I pulled up to the towering corporate building as it sat silently amid the slowly awakening city. I parked in front of the high rise and took in the silence of the early morning. New York experiences lulls in action once in a while and I learned to anticipate them. These preemptive rides were the byproduct of countless tedious commutes from my New Jersey apartment. I hate New Jersey. Correction; I hate the part of New Jersey that borders Manhattan. It feels like purgatory if purgatory reeked of cigarettes and motor oil and no one was ever happy to see you. When I exit the Holland Tunnel the city stands in sharp contrast. The ritzy apartm