He had become a stranger in the city he called home, a place that was once beautiful and gritty like a broken stained glass window, but was now a soulless shell inhabited by the rich and sneering.

In the daylight—and many years after its heyday—the old bar seemed smaller and much more decrepit than when Dan spent his nights enveloped in its warm embrace of booze, pulsating lights, pounding beats, and pure potential.

On the day he died the curtain was torn asunder to reveal a life built on lies, chicanery, and double dealing.

Our dystopian future had finally arrived with nary a flying car in sight.

Her moods seemed to shift with the weather so her coworkers stayed home during thunderstorms.

Hyacinth and Tiger lily now grew where men once warred.

Like the movie sets she spent her days on, Alicia's beautiful facade hid an empty space devoid of anything but dust and darkness.