Life wasn’t fair.

Sylvia knew that. Even her name came after a car name.

Living as an orphan wasn’t fair either. On the bright side, it could be worse. She could be named Nissan.

The night was quiet, and that was nice.

Usually, the industrial area boiled with hooker fights. The city had changed a lot after the energetic crisis. “damn Greta", she thought.

She prepared to close her small restaurant and call it a day. Or a night. Who cared.



The stories of the deepest corners of the psyche. Fiction that didn’t exist before and was told many times already. Don’t like what you see, what you hear? The creative world is dying? Time to fight back! How do writers fight back? They write, they create! Be original!

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JM Miana

JM Miana

I write a lot about cars, philosophy, and revolution. Send your tips, commissions, or insults vía Vocal or Ko-Fi: