Part I of a story: An Introduction

Everyday disasters happen whenever they want and wherever you’d rather they didn’t. A city holds a glut of such disasters lurking behind each affable street name and behind other places you might not have thought anything of before. Designed to happen with grace and executions, a deep-sea dive for a dreadnought a juxtaposed jive for those juggernauts and for a little girl, well, we’ll see.
There’s nothing you can do about these events they’re already there: every disaster will happen.

Now, Maisy made waves in round-a-bout ways and was not prone to disasters nor was she naïve: she’d lied through her teeth many a time but she couldn’t always grasp the simple pleasures that litter a life and she often had trouble falling asleep. One night, in the dead of night, she counted 12 dozen and eight sheep, her eyes parched and her lips flicked but not a glance of tiredness. The question, possibly even dilemma, for anyone in this situation is which option do you go for: stay where you are and hope you’re on the cusp of sleep or get up and do something?

Maisy got up and walked around, she looked around too and thought around and eventually about what she could do to make her decision a little more worthwhile. A quick look in the fridge held none of the answers. Outside a dog rattled a cat. Inside: Nothing. She snook to the cupboard (almost like her intentions were gonna make her move louder (than before)) and pinched her dad’s leather jacket- a forgotten remnant of a previous mid-life-crisis to make her feel tougher and warmer.

She was already in the town centre by the time Maisy remembered that she was supposed to be sleeping. She’d never seen the town without any people before, it’d always felt like some people’s only purpose was to walk around town centres with somethings to do- the people she never remembered or really noticed thouh she knew they were there. Obviously no-one has anythings to do at this time of night, not in the town anyway. There wasn’t much of a noise without the people either, ‘is it really a town centre if it doesn’t have any people anymore?’ she wondered on her own, ‘does it count?’.

Just louder than the silence was a noise. A little later it was louder and before she knew what it was it was a moped.

(on the moped was a girl. Yes, a girl. The girl had a convincing smile. You might know the type.)