T R I L L I O N A I R E

2:00am

The Top Of The Rock.

My head is spinning.

I can’t breathe.

I can hear the gunshots.

Suicide isn’t safe.

“Here we speak in the public haunt of men.”

“Depart”

“Men’s eyes were made to look..”

“.. and let them gaze for I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I.”

Spits.

“ROMEO!!!”

“I’m coming to kill you.”

I leapt from bed and ran to the open window and pull myself up to the ledge.

The air is cold.

The night sky is filled with scattered greyish white clouds.

The moon is glowing and full.

I wake as I fall.

I leap from bed and run to the window but it’s closed.

“Wakeup!”

Registered

Titlehouse Print Works

New York, New York

The Standard Reserve International