Hamlet

My blood flows like cool honey in my veins. My pupils dilate, until my entire eye turns black. I smile without folding a single crease into my skin. Eyebrows raised just enough to impart a carefree demeanor. Ears flattened against the sides of my head. Hair perfectly coiffed and parted, not a single hair out of place. My hand is steady. My fingertips gently grasp a glass, an intricate pattern etched into it, almost like a gigantic snowflake. The golden brown whiskey is cool, with little icebergs floating within it. It burns a path slowly, sensuously, down my throat with every sip. My left hand is dry, and somewhat cracked. My nails are a perfect shade of pink, sharply changing to the pearl white at the end. The skin along the inside of my index and middle finger are slightly yellow, with a half smoked cigarette held between them. The ash hangs precariously from the end of the butt. Just waiting for the slightest jostle to fall off.

My desk is a dark oak. In my office, it is an extension of my wardrobe, essential for the authority I demand. But I am turned away from it. The glass windows run from floor to ceiling. The sky outside is fading to black. Starless and cloudless. The city sprawls before me, lights stretched out in little lines, some perfectly straight, and others tangled. Like god had decided today was a good day to untangle his Christmas lights. Smaller lights run back and forth amongst them, people scurrying home. Men going home to their wives (or mistresses?). Women returning from a late shopping spree. The nannies and maids and butlers just dismissed for the night. In the far distance, the lights seem to shimmer on and off. Heat waves and pollution radiate from the streets, and distort the light from miles away. Further away, the haze and fog envelopes the buildings, obscuring them from view.

My visions reddens a tinge. My smile cracks, my lip drops just a little. The ash is set free. The glass in my hand slips away from my fingertips. I don't hear either hit the ground. I don't hear anything at all.