龙女

          THIS PLACE IS EXOTIC, filled with flowers & ivies & icicle lighting.  like everything, the window panes had triangular patterned segments.  leveled. while the walls & decor are stark white, the plants there are 𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑺  from other states, other countries.  some are local.  crowds of well-dressed patrons jabbering on about all kinds of political jargon & LEGALESE.  five thousand per capita is merely a drop in the bucket to support their guy, michael lesner for mayor, & their own interests.

          EXOTIC, ALLURING, ELEGANT ; there lies an even stranger beneath the quadruple digits in fabrics & accessory.  a creature, even.  something lurks underneath soft & supple organic skin & is channeled through arcane, unknowable substances that hasn’t quite ripped the mortality or the morality from her ivory bones.  electrical NEURAL SYNAPSES making her a cold killer who talk to skin off a man’s back or with a kiss.  she’s dressed like the kind of woman who ironically sits in cafes in paris to eat alone & stare winsomely ——aloof—— at the cobbled walkways, the people, before trickling her sight to the great 𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑿 𝑻𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 eclipsing the early morning sun.

          IT’S ALWAYS CHILLY AT NIGHT IN CHELSEA ;  it’s by the water.  mist hovering the dead streets, tingling with distant sounds of rubber skittering across gravel from passing cars.  there are glimmers of 𝑳𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺 in her eerily luminescent root beer eyes, her quasi-swarthy skin from the whole ordeal.  the glow does die down after a few moments & it sags like coal——it’s all she can muster.  more than a little tired from the soiree, playing ARM CANDY for an oil baron she’d been seeing off & on. ( nice man with quirks, but absolutely draconian in the realm of business! ) he offered her a ride back to his suite, just like last time.  she politely declined, & suggested she’d see herself out.  a delightful distraction while in the city, but it is A GAME which she must end soon.  wrap it up.  

          GOODNEIGHBOR, A LIBERTARIAN’S PARADISE  —— where the right to private citizenship & the right to become a recipient of the pointed end of a knife is as natural as oxygen one BREATHES.  outside, the air is thick & laced with cigarette smoke & the conglomerate of its town’s coarse, yet refined niche.  people, ghouls posted up near broken benches, some quietly watching those that pass with menacing glares.  ( faceless. unfamiliar faces slosh in waves, laughing, jeering —— coursing the block en route to their famous jazz joint ) it is her element to melt into a crowd & her skill to ignore the masses around her.  she smiles & steps into the walkway of the 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑽𝑬 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑾𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬 building, stairs beyond lithified sediment.  & ada, through careful breeding, has inherited the critical eye, knows a boss when she sees one.  not to mention there is a confidence that stands at the pinnacle of the steps like he owned the place.   a ghoul.  a dandy.   ( king of the castle ! ) puts on her best face & tugs A CIGARETTE from a chrome case in her blazer pocket while ascending the steps.  then another. 

          𝑨𝑫𝑨’𝑺 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑰𝑮𝑵𝑨𝑵𝑻 when she looks down at the little girl who reels plush rodent back into her possession ( alabaster white fabric, black beady eyes, a cotton tail & a thick, pink thread at the pinnacle of its face ! ) a girl who is far too young to experience the horrors of war, calamity.  the thin veil of blissful ignorance can be easily shattered with a single BULLET or body.  when one bears parentage directly hailing from bioweapon research & development, it is but a matter of time before one’s 𝑶𝑾𝑵 𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺 would destroy an entire family, a bloodline.