Another day, another dollar. Bitches be writhing. I be writing, battling my way through Hell’s Kitchen, blind as a bat, with sensory enhancements coming from the lord and savior himself–my only hope for salvation in this destitute land of trash curbs and massive skyscrapers blasting apart the sky with control rooms full of control freaks.

I got the blades dangling from my exhausted arms.

“I’m growing.” I tell the monster. “Thank you for your training, and the opportunity to either die or grow.”

Goliath on high, The Mountain in the arena, reminds me not to get too showy or confident.

“Okay.” I reply. “I just want to save my family, myself included.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s