preview

It Was A Dark And Monotonous Night

Better Essays

It was a dark and monotonous night. The efflorescence of humanity converged into a ballistic modernism, lingering on mental pinions, the hipsters, proto-, post- and pseudo-, spiraling perniciously downward in united mania. Mania of such magnificent pulchritude and beauty, melding, intertwining. all concentrated in a singular point where the energies thereof pulled magnetically the straggling no-knowers into it’s orifice, colorful deceit and beautiful delirium. The postmodern was nothing. Everything was postmodern. Everything was nothing. It was a steel and silk evening: not quite brisk enough to be cold, but lacking the light to be idyllic and warm. Yasiin remembered many things, the small things, good things, bad things, wrong things, right things; things that were at once normal, before turning into something entirely out of his league. His scars didn’t even have time to heal anymore, it was one murder to the next. He tightened his trench coat tighter around his slim body, trying his hardest to shield himself from the nipping wind. He wore a charcoal Brioni three-button suit, that felt like a calfskin glove on his body. It wasn’t a work suit usually, but he felt the need today. His eggshell Egyptian cotton dress shirt, by Donna Karan, had white gold cuff links in the shape of hammers from Tiffany’s, and the tie was Versace. His half-closed eyes had a look of vacancy or stagnancy, which might as well have been one and the same. Only his mouth, set determinedly and

Get Access