Vermilioncore
Fear…
- Joined
- Oct 17, 2019
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essay by me
The night. Moon peeking through scattered clouds. Street lights and neon liquor store signs. Ubers. Lyfts. The scent of something delicious — steak (chicken?). The scent of something enticing; a mixture of perfume, alcohol, and car exhaust. Your window is down. You’re at the red light. The club music is loud. Lines are long. The high heels. The men with fades. The women with skirts and tidied hair. The lion in the bush. The zebra and its wide-eyed curious glare. The owls resting in the tree. The pheromones beckoning. A lioness lying prone. A small lion. A bigger lion. A battle. A mutilation. A death. A win. A mating call to he who prevailed. The light turns green and off you go.
The night. Moon peeking through scattered clouds. Street lights and neon liquor store signs. Ubers. Lyfts. The scent of something delicious — steak (chicken?). The scent of something enticing; a mixture of perfume, alcohol, and car exhaust. Your window is down. You’re at the red light. The club music is loud. Lines are long. The high heels. The men with fades. The women with skirts and tidied hair. The lion in the bush. The zebra and its wide-eyed curious glare. The owls resting in the tree. The pheromones beckoning. A lioness lying prone. A small lion. A bigger lion. A battle. A mutilation. A death. A win. A mating call to he who prevailed. The light turns green and off you go.
