Our story takes place The times: The Age of Brass, a time much like the present.
The place: Victoriaville.
V-Ville has five quarters. To the north, The spiral-staircased Mountain, where my apartment is, where French is spoken. The Victoria River runs down from the mountain, forking to run either side of English
Centreville: department stores, the universities, the medical school, the student ghetto. South of downtown is The District: white marble ministries, architraved museums, bronze statues in green squares, white-mullioned red brick Federal-style row houses with plaques. The two branches of the Victoria meet below the District, flowing south to the sea. Over the river and east of downtown: Koreatown, Chinatown. Over the river and west of downtown: the Sprawl: desert, malls, gated communities. VAX, the airport, is west of the Sprawl, and west of VAX the desert proper begins.
The city plan is a grid, poked through by the Mountain, except for the Sprawl, where roads trail off into the desert. Highways have not, for the most part, penetrated the city core. Buses and the El are 24/7; taxis are clean and reliable. Ferries ply the west branch of the river. Brothels are scattered throughout, more thinly in the District.
Our story takes place in the apartments, hotels, rented rooms, massage parlors, and brothels of Victoriaville.
{NA}
>> posted by Anonymous
• 10/01/2003 11:23:00 AM
•
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