This city is growing restless.
So am I.
It’s Devil’s Night and Gotham is burning.
Washington Square Park seems to be the beginning of the end.
Concentric concrete circles filled with burning garbage cans and stray animals.
People are walking through the arch and not coming out on the other side.
It’s that funny time of year. The dead are going to rise up and we are going to welcome them with a burning Earth. We are going to purify this city. My momma is going to be proud.
I’m getting reports of fires in Union Square, Tompkins Square, and Madison Square Park.
Gotham is burning.
The statue of Grimaldi has been painted with blue and green symbols.
The fountain looks like it’s pumping blood. Thick and slow.
The world shifts and bleeds into the past. Humming is creeping up from the 4th Street subway station.
Is it the end of the world? No. Maybe. Maybe it’s the beginning of how the world should have been. These fires are the light in the darkness we have created for our selves. It’s not just destruction. It’s creation through ashes and ruin.
Bodies swing, smoldering, from the arch. The ground around the trash cans opens and reveals the bones of the forgotten poor.
Goats wander up Broadway.
The top of the Empire State Buildings blows away in a cloud of dust.
A woman dressed up as Yellow Jack walks between the flames, kissing the bones and shedding tears on the fevered ground.
The plagues will return with the dead tomorrow. We are preparing the way for a new world.
Everyone is mumbling about revolution and revelation.
Chants to the old gods are rising up the avenues. The streets are being blocked with make-shift barricades.
I’m trying to find higher ground. A place to see this all from above. A place out of the smoke and stench of four hundred year old decay.
They are burning Gotham.
Tomorrow the dead come out.
Let’s hope they don’t stay.