illphated
The Cowboy Who Watched the Future
Dust swirled around Cole’s boots as he sat on the edge of the Martian cliff, his green cowboy hat tilted low against the neon glow from the city below. A cigarette dangled between his fingers, the embers flickering in sync with the flashing billboards reflecting off his visor.
New Houston. A city of towering chrome spires, buzzing sky lanes, and holograms that shimmered with promises of a life he’d never touch. From up here, the music was just a distant thrum, the laughter a ghostly echo.
Cole had once dreamt of being down there, a name in neon, a legend in the circuits of the underground. But he’d been too late. The AI dealers, the chrome-outlaws, the corporate cowboys—they’d staked their claims before he even set foot on this rock. Now, all he had was this mountain, the cold Martian wind, and a pocket full of regrets.
Below, a convoy of hover bikes sped across a skybridge, their riders whooping as they disappeared into the night. A new party, a new hustle, a new frontier. Cole exhaled slowly.
“Hell,” he muttered to no one. “Maybe next life.”
He flicked the cigarette into the abyss, watching the sparks die before they even touched the ground. The city pulsed on without him.