I had traveled to a restaurant on an island in a river towards the Coastal South West area of California. The island was tiny, just large enough to fit the coastal restaurant itself and more or less a front yard to it; it might not even be *on land* if it rains. I started the building, tried some of the noodles offered to me, then realized the guy who offered them did so that he himself could escape from paying for the decent, but overpriced food...

Luckily, I was able to escape as well!

Standing in place near the table by the entrance, I started to flap my arms. I gained enough lift to fly through the front doorway. There was just enough of a burst of energy for me to elevate myself to the roof with the power of arm tensing, straining flaps. On the roof, I noticed a couple of quarters, a few silver dollars too. I then scavenged the roof for any and all coins including some foreign currency in addition to the standard USD. Also on the roof, were a handful of security cameras. Some were angled down towards the entrance, or around the perimeter. One was pointed to where I had just been on the shingled roof seconds ago.

Luckily for me, there was also a screen to watch the camera feed; for some reason, that was also here and not in the restaurant itself. Content with accepting that I was on the roof camera and not overly revealed on it, I spread out my arms again and took off.

Angling my open palms back at roughly a 45° angle, I gave myself forward momentum to cross the river and head towards the city. Narrow, cobblestone walkways and rarely any plants in sight, I walked along the trash ridden path. The salty sea breeze made me more eager to explore too. I tried traveling to the beach, which was entirely obscured by rows of tall buildings with little variation between them.

Underneath one of the wall of buildings was a stairway leading straight down to almost toxic-looking sand.

Upon stepping down not even a few steps, the mechanism that resembled a roller coaster seatbelt-lock thing somehow combined with an extra sturdy laundry bin rang out with a click, blocking my escape. The robed, unkempt lurking figures along the downward leading stairway and along the waterfront littered with more trash than sand were alerted to the sound, drawing a number of eyes towards me. A little too late, I realized that this might be a spot where the city directed its homeless to.

Stolen story; please report.

I did not know how to get past the lock mechanism despite my attempts. Seeing this, a Lickitung, looking like it would in the Detective Pikachu movie, overly detailed & hyper-realistic, ascended from the steps with a jiggling prance. The Lickitung offered to help open the path for me again. I winced, expecting to hear that followed up with "for a price," but no such condition came and the eel-like tongue slid through the spots it needed to, leaving a trail of slime in its path and an unobscured exit.

Moved by this, I decided to give the Lickitung my apparently cherished ziplock bag of over a hundred jingling pennies.

At the top of the stairs past the trap mechanism, I noticed a tall, cardboard container of various chocolate hearts of different flavors and brands. They all shared the same shape, but their shiny foil wrapping varied greatly. There were Thin Mints, Snickers which I avoided (peanut allergy,) various chocolate brands (I caved and grabbed a Crunch in the shape of a heart since they were free and it probably would not be supporting the company to take one at that point,) fruit flavors, a number of cereal brands for some reason, and some common ice cream flavors too. I grabbed a handful with some variety before turning to the path again.

Back on the cobblestone walkway, I met the founder of the homeless shelter, a woman who seemed to be pale, frail, and malnourished despite the abundance of chocolate hearts just next to the top of the stairs beside her. She asked what I thought of her shelter. There was a feeling of respect and closure until I asked "so you did this all for Furbies?.."

That was responded to with a deadpan "yeah." The scene zoomed out a bit to allow for a tumble weed to roll by with the sound effect of the wind it brought.

...

I had now traveled to the other coast of the United States. I was now somewhere in New England, along a rocky shore with muted colors at or around dusk.

Rival gatherings of students, being young and stupid, started throwing rocks at each other as I tried to pass by, just wanting to get to the water. One even used a stone put technique to launch an excessively large boulder at the smaller group, who thankfully were able to escape its path. At some point throughout this, I was recognized as a famous sport player- I wasn't actually one though, I just faked it till I made it.