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This is a brief excerpt from an upcoming story:
‘My city is Paradiopolis. From the balcony, it looks like a work of art. Victorian townhouses, spiraling towers, concrete domes and corporate office-blocks speak of a city that was built over hundreds of years and different eras of human philosophy. Streets snake through this labyrinthine beast like cracks on a dry-bed; Cars idle restlessly at stoplights. Their headlights dull as the sun rises. Its pink and orange colors melt seamlessly into the rush-hour pollution. Under the polluted ultra-violet haze, I see a man point a gun towards one of the idling cars. There is a boom like a cannon and the pigeon next to me flies away, its orange eye wide with terror. This city is like a Monet painting; beautiful from afar and ugly up close. This is Paradiopolis; The city where I was born and the city where one day, I suppose I will die. I am as much a part of it, as it is of me. We are both alive. We both breathe. And we both struggle every day between what is right and what is wrong.’
The man runs and dives off his balcony, his trench-coat billowing in the rushing wind...
‘My name is Messenger. I have been gone a long time, but this city needs me... And I ... need it!’
It's been many years, but this December, the gun-toting vigilante Messenger will return for one last adventure against a brand new villain named Abyss. Catch the full story this December 1st...
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The story is only half done. If I can't gin up some interest, I don't think I'll be motivated to finish.