This place. I know it. Is this a scene from my waking life? Does that mean I'm dreaming right now? Or does it mean I'm dead? Have you ever felt it? That strong, insistent feeling you've been in a place before, but know goddamn well you really haven't. A previous life, maybe, when you walked the earth as someone else. And you're pretty certain that this someone else was a better person than you are now.
Images steeped in shadow, entrenched in mistrust and suspicion, and riddled with anxiety. This is your world, whether you want to admit it or not. A city called Entropy.
You can try to escape from its clutches, but Fate is a treacherous mistress with an iron grip. Fate rules the city of Entropy.
But wait . . . is that a flicker of light behind the slats of a Venetian blind? Ah, it’s someone lighting up a cigarette in the dark room. Someone who will shortly step outside, find you cowering in the shadows and blow a smoke ring in your face. Better than a sock in the kisser or a bullet through the eye.
Welcome to Entropy. Sit back, tighten your seat belt and hang on to your fedora.
“Mom, where have you been? We tried to call you. Why didn’t you answer?”
No response, no eye contact.
“We were really worried about you. Mom, let me see your phone.”
Clutches purse tightly, as daughter gently tugs.
“Mom, let go. I want to make sure your phone is charged.”
Purse is finally wrenched from mother’s hands and the clasp unsnapped.
“What the . . . oh my god! Mother!”
Purse falls to ground. Mother stifles a smile.