It seemed a clichéd accoutrement, really. The gold watch that signified so much time spent, so many hours put in every day, every week, and every year. It was a cursory nod to an outdated tradition.
It was subtle, the shift. So subtle that it took him a few seconds to fully realise his predicament. One second he was held up against the wall by a petite looking woman who had no right to be able to physically manhandle him, the next he was standing over her crumpled body.
It wasn’t all that different from home.
The people were as petty, mindless and self servicing. The buildings were the same, huge, glassed monstrosities. Society was almost similar to a fault.
Hrm, so much for interesting first lines =P Oh well. Those are the stalled fics, mostly due to time and inspiration about actual plot direction. As always, I have issues with actually developing detailed plots and so once I get past the 'gimmick' of the idea as such, things slow down =P