Monday, July 25, 2011

White Petals on Black Snow


Across the city, in a circle of extravagantly warm light; behind impenetrable black curtains; behind the inevitable night; they dance a paradoxical Charleston, all jitterbug hype and light speed abandon in the face of the abysmal divide between those within and those without.
Now, as before, the manner in which the city’s inhabitants face the world is determined not by virtue, but by the weight of financial influence.
This is the hall of true survivors; the bearers of currency beyond money itself. And who will question such power when wielded in a world where the currency traded is life itself. Not just the life of the individual but the lives of everyone and everything; not just Murder Inc but the Department of Global Catastrophe.

3 comments:

Harlequin said...

this can apply to far too many governing bodies.... and decision making processes... wow.
i especially liked the "true survivors" bit...
great stuff.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Harlequin: This is a paragraph out of a new story I'm working on at the rate of about a sentence or two a week. Tentatively entitled 'Penumbra: Life After Life' and about three pages long at the moment, I'm hoping it will develope into a cohesive whole and not just a rampbling diatribe against the establishment (although that would probably be okay too :D )

Confessions of a Temporal Lobe said...

Ya knocked it outta the park with this one.

Hope your weekend was enjoyed.
Cheers, from inside a burning empire.
Heh....