Calvino-style story

As some of you know, my thesis started with Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities. I haven't been writing my stories the way he wrote, but this one just seemed to come out that way. Let me know what you think.


HIGHBUSH PARK

Welcome to the city of Highbush Park. You can see it from the crest of the hill, resting on the plateau, halfway into the valley. The people of Highbush Park are small, maybe half the size of a typical adult, and they live to play make believe. Games that involve all parts of their city; and all inhabitants, local and foreign. A ladder leading to a platform becomes a pirate lookout, and a rope bridge becomes a perilous journey across a sea of lava to save a princess trapped by a troll who lives in the tunnel on the other side.

Visitors to Highbush Park are automatically inserted into the make believe world upon arrival, as travelling princes or wandering gypsies with fortunes to tell and dragons to slay. The inhabitants are not all occupying the same make believe world all the time, sometimes a slide down an escape chute away from the police will become a fall down into a cavern and a mysterious new world that only exists underground. A warrior swinging over a battle to reach the evil king will be followed by a group of monkeys searching for food to take home for supper.

This is the daylight city of Highbush Park, full of carefree fun, laughter and energy. But at night, the inhabitants are not the same as those during the day. They are taller, larger and more sombre. They don’t swing, slide or climb; they simply sit in the shadows and speak of movies, sports and the tragedy of their lives. Almost always there is a sweet, pungent smell coming from their location at the mouth of the tunnel or from under the lookout. These inhabitants wear dark clothing to blend in with their dark city, and they do not welcome visitors. If you happen to come across Highbush Park at night, you might hear the murmur of voices or smell the sweet, cloying scent of their smoke, but these citizens will not acknowledge you if you continue on your way. If you choose to engage them, no good will come of it. You will be shouted at, insulted and threatened until you back down and leave them to their shadowy home. They are not a violent people, but they value their privacy and they will protect it with any means available.

Come morning and the rising of the sun, the daylight inhabitants are back, running and laughing and welcoming as they were the day before. If there are small, white remnants in the sand as a reminder of the night dwellers, they are quickly trampled underfoot and forgotten. At least until the night comes again.