City sleep.
Quiet down below, fog settles.
Let the dream, the possibility of another life, linger. Impossible.
The city never forgets. People change. They die, many by your hand.
But repeated history provides no absolution. The mere drift of forever between never and nothing provides no solace. No forgiveness.
You’ll pay. Someday soon the curtain will drop on a final act. It will be a whimper. You would never scream. Only those who have something to lose scream.
iPhone Notes Story
DFW – NYC 11.02.15
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Christopher Metcalf - Author