"You following?"
The tiles we're walking on have a pattern to them. Hexagons that always surround a central one, like flower petals. Endless flower petals, covering the sidewalk, being crushed under my feet.
"Yeah, go on"
We keep walking as my partner's vehement monologue picks back up.
"And this thing - 'child support' - is just utter bullshit! Why would a man, not just me, any man, have to..."
And he keeps going, reassured of my interest. Up ahead, the sidewalk abruptly at an unmarked crossroad. The flower petals turn to black asphalt, and we both make sure no cars are incoming before crossing the road and rising to a different sidewalk, one made up of uniform grey squares.
" - And this guy, this one guy, has to support 5 children he didn't want and aren't his fault. You keeping up so far?"
The sky is still overcast, I thought it would clear up by now. I wonder if it'll rain.
Am I keeping up at all? I feel like I should be listening. I turn to my companion and try to muster some enthusiasm in my voice.
"Yeah, yeah."
"It's madness, is what it is. We're in the future, buddy, and it's mad!"
He laughs, and I with him.
"Madness" I repeat. It reassures people you're listening. I am listening, right?
"So we got this and a hundred things like it, and we got a government that wants to stick their hands in everything we do, everything I want to do and everything you want to do and everything that guy - "
Cars pass us by. I can hear honks from a nearby junction.  Traffic should be terrible at this time of day, shouldn't it? Everybody says so. I think I said so myself a few times, too. I never witnessed the actual traffic, but nobody ever disagreed. Should I mention the traffic? No, he's still talking. Listen.
 
" - So what possible conclusion are we left with, as reasonable men? What else is there?"
His, obviously. What was his position again? I should know this, he's been going about it for at least an hour now. An hour for me, years of his life. First he learned, and now he's preaching. Now's the important part, the part where I agree with him and he seals the deal. I think the clouds got darker, there's definitely a chance of rain. I pretend to think it over, like I'm trying to come up with a reasonable answer that isn't the one he wants. I can feel his patience. He doesn't see a way out of this for me - if I don't agree, I must be mad. I wonder if the sidewalk changes after this point, or if it stays grey and square forever. A low rumble is heard in the distance. There's definitely a storm coming.
 
I must be mad.
 
"We take down the government." My words, his conclusion.
 
 
A week later, my head hits the pillow and my eyes close. I wish I could be the type of man who could hit the bed and pass out right away, like a log. I wonder if my companion from a week ago is someone like that. He must be. He was so fervent, sure of his belief. How can anybody like that have trouble sleeping?
The rain is still going, clattering against the windows with the occasional thunder.
 
For a day, I was an anarchist. For a day, I rejected any form of official government and the illusion of power and swore the death of their falsehoods. For a day, I became a brother in an unofficial organization that wanted to end official organization. My new brothers and sisters were on the verge of changing the world, and I became a part of it. Just for a day. Maybe I should've been more excited.
 
The morning after I swore their cause, I was already gone. The cause was left behind, along with my companion and that grey city he and his fellow brothers-of-the-cause lived in. The rain followed me, though. It's right here, outside my window, reminding me. Accusing me. Maybe they could've changed the world. Maybe they already would've if it wasn't for fickle minds and false vows and inattentive listeners.
 
It's not my fault the world isn't changed, is it?