Escape From Hell!
And now, for those what are interested, the prologue is up as a free preview over at Bookspot Central. Well, I call it the prologue; I sorta think of it as the pre-credit sequence. (Oh, if only I knew Sam Raimi and/or Samuel L. Jackson and/or Laurence Fishburne. Swear to God, we might start riots in cineplexes across the Bible Belt, but hey, if it meant having Jackson and Fishburne together in a movie, how fucking cool would that be? Fuck, why has it not fucking happened yet?!)
Anyhoo, yeah. Go read.
Night in the City
It’s night in the city, clouds overhead painted crimson by the streetlights, roof underfoot mirroring the same light in the sleek of water shattered by splash-patterns of ripples and raindrops, constant but arrhythmic, out of synch with the slow onward trudge of bootsteps—left, right—through the puddles of liquid night—left, right—stepping up to a low wall’s edge—left, right—and onto it. Left. Right.
Look down. Pull back. The alley below is a thin chasm of darkness patched by windows to the left, a neon sign at the corner, sliced for a second as a sword of light sweeps the rain. The beam of a police copter’s searchlight picks out a shamble of ragged coats which was once a man named Eli, standing now on the edge of nameless death, a vagrant suicide in the city morgue. His arms are spread as he testifies to the copter, St John Doe the Divine.
– And I looked, he shouts, and behold, the heavens opened. And I saw a great white throne, and He who sat upon it, from whose face even the earth and the heaven fled away.
Loudspeaker noise urges him back from the edge, but he doesn’t listen to the words, just looks over his shoulder back the way he came. The wind that’s been batting the open fire exit door against concrete finally lets it go. The door swings slowly shut as Eli turns back to his little back-alley abyss.
[Read the rest]