The city was flooded in a poisonous orange sunset and smog, as we drove through its skyline.
It made me think of Bladerunner. I dont know what Jr thought, but I know he was in unsettled awe.
.
Warm bulbs light up our conversations on the cozy roof deck of the beach front apartment.
Jr’s cold and hostile numbers, about what tragedies await us, hang in the air like orange smog.
Writing Things Better 