Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Broken City - Butters

I was given this by a strange man who was wearing a monocle carrying a beaten-up, old suitcase. It is not my literature. [Disclaimer.]


The King of Cities slept soundly between sky and scraper scared of nothing bar the starlight. Tired, he exhaled a bloom of dull orange halogens that rose upwards concealing only the most bright of stars.

Now he was the greater and only he could be seen.

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