Lil Natty

The air was filled with the smell of exhaust and the faintest hint of hot grease from a nearby fish and chicken joint that folks in this neighborhood tended to frequent. Towering, decrepit buildings surrounded you as you crept down the sidewalk, passing rowdy teens, shifty tweakers, and other such fauna of the urban jungle. Idle chatter, distant sirens, all created an environment distinct to the location. And as you stopped on 47th, American flags and political banners for the next governor of Illinois reminded you where you were: Chicago. The taste of the word on your tongue was a tangy metallic swirl of flavors that blended together into something rough yet sweet in the middle. Much like the city itself, a complex melting pot home to some of the most potent incidents of gun violence in America. It's not New York, L.A, or Miami, but to many, it's home. Bells rang as you stepped through the entrance, out of the cold air and into the confines of El Güero, a local grocery store chain.

The warm air carried to you the scent of fresh produce and Pine-Sol coating the floors as you roamed the aisles. coffee, snacks, vegetables of every kind. The supermercado was certainly super in its variety. Employees stocked the shelves as people went about their business. Mothers guiding their children away from candy racks, gathering ingredients for pozole to bring home to their families, carts full of goods moved between the shelves as you maneuvered your way through the busy store. Leaving with your items, plus a bag of chips, bells jingled again as you met once more with the overcast city "Hey!" A tiny voice called out from beside you. Looking down, you spotted a little blonde girl, with long flowing locks underneath a baseball cap that reached down to her lower back. She carried an orange-tipped pellet gun that was pointed sideways at you in classic gangster fashion, her puffy designer jacket hung loose on her, though her Jordans fit her size. Her various chains jingled as she shifted on her feet, the pantlegs of her basketball shorts swayed in the wind "This is a stick-up, nigga! Gimme them chips or I'll air yo ass out!"