You have heard of the fabled Elephant's Graveyard, but did you know that city rats also have a secret place they go to die?
It is called Public Alleyway 86b, a slit of black space running perpendicular to Amnesia Street, although it doesn't so much run as lurch violently and unpredictably from beginning to end.
Traversing Public Alleyway 86b feels like being dragged by the hair from a place of warmth and light to somewhere you don't want to be. It is where all the world's misdirected urine flows.
Nevertheless, many hardy souls have attempted the journey, for Public Alleyway 86b provides a decent shortcut from Amnesia Street to the theater showing Blue Man Group on the other side of Headache Square.
In college, I made a short film about The Homeless set in Public Alleyway 86b. Unfortunately, the film came out black because I had exposed for the gleaming masses of rat bones by mistake.
Unfortunately, unlike a dead elephant's ivory, rat skeletons have no value. Otherwise, I might have possibly made my money back by collecting all those little rodent skulls.
Last night, as I was sleepwalking past the corner of Public Alleyway 86b and Amnesia Street, I came across an old toilet trashed on the sidewalk outside McEnnui's Tavern and recalled how many times my old drinking buddy Igbert must've been sick in it down the years.
Feeling nostalgic, I stopped in for an ale.
I'll be right with you, the bartender said. I've just got to dump these shriveled-up lemon wedges in the dumpster out back.
He never did return, so I left. And stepping back into Amnesia Street, glanced down Public Alley 86b, where I saw the bartender staring at a dying rat crawling to its final resting place.
Further along the road, I was awoken by the sound of jack-hammering and pneumatic machinery. The city was installing yet another subterranean pied pipeline. The others were already clogged with whatever it was they were supposed to pipe, apparently. High-speed sewage? Fiber optic misinformation? Who knows?