{October 20}
{Zura}
Zura reluctantly treaded the maze of alleys, each one narrower than the last, like the crumbling arteries of a forsaken city.
The once vibrant murals on the walls, now faded and defaced, whispered tales of a bygone era. Graffiti adorned the dilapidated buildings, the scrawled symbols of different gangs marking territories like scars on a wounded beast.
The air hung heavy with the oppressive stench of decay, a cocktail of unwashed bodies, refuse, and the dampness of forgotten dreams. The atmosphere reeked of desperation, a palpable force that seeped into the very essence of the slum's existence. Residents moved with heads bowed, shoulders slumped under the weight of their hardships, navigating the alleyways with a certain resignation etched into their weary faces.
