“I see you're done drooling over the club's embellishments?” Oriana asked as she noticed her friend finally approaching their table after minutes of gaping at the regally caparisoned club.Emerald only rolled her eyes, dismissing Oriana's remark and smug look as she turned towards the other people at the table, passing them what she hoped looked like a genuine smile and not akin to a grimace.“Hi,” she greeted as she began walking towards the empty seat beside Oriana. She was glad they hadn't chosen a booth because it would've been quite awkward and inconvenient trying to slide in with her pretty short outfit; besides, she delightfully embraced the lack of human contact — something that even made her feel more gauchely than other things.However, before she could sink into her haven of serenity — well, something close to the serenity you could attain in a club, taking into consideration the booming music — she was pulled into a hug

Would be nice to wake up to the tickling effect of a beautifully patterned butterfly perching on the tip of your nose as the first rays of sunlight kissed your skin.Would be nice to hear beautiful blue birds singing as they glided across the clear blue morning firmament. Such a taradiddle it would be if one could pad barefooted across the room towards the window to behold the beauties mother nature had to offer to mankind.The rows and rows of endless, clean-cut green grass, the ethereal colours that splashed the morning skies as the ride of the round orange-yellow ball made the Manhattan welkin blush with different shades. The mountains in the distance that seemed to have endless peaks which projected towards the heavens.These scenarios seemed to only appear in fairy tales, maybe Cinderella or probably in the countryside of London because unfortunately, this was no fairy-tale story. This was Manhattan — an industrial city right i

The woman dressed in a grey pastel pink turtleneck dress stepped out of the Uber vehicle, quietly shutting the door behind her. Her long sleeved sweater-like dress clung to her perfect figure as she stood before the lofty and Brobdingnagian glass building of the Columbia circle landmark.The sunlight bounced off the shiny and lustrous building of the Time Warner Center, giving it an unbelievably radiant splendour. Compared to its leviathan height, Emerald was nothing but an ant.Pushing through the revolving door, she walked into the vast glass building with the sole purpose of finding a particular restaurant. After taking a couple turns and a ride up the escalator, with the aid of the brochure that had been given to her by a worker, she finally found what she was looking for. In Hell's kitchen neighbourhood of the Columbia circle — precisely the 4F suite — stood proudly, a Japanese three Michelin-starred restaurant before her

▬▬▬▬▬●●▬▬▬▬▬‘. . .I don't wanna be this cold (cold)Shivering to my bones (bones)Someone reset my soul, oh, oh And I don't wanna be locked up (up)I don't wanna feel this down (down)I just wanna scream and shout.I'll go out, grow my hair too longSing your least favourite songAt the top of my lungs (oh, oh, oh)I'll go out, kiss all of your friendsMake a story and pretendIt was me who made this end (oh, oh, oh). . .’The silence that stretched out through the car accompanied by the never–ending tension between the two beings was strained so thickly in the air like the thick smoke emitted from the chimney of a nuclear power plant.Other than their arguments about being dropped off or not and the persistent insistences of Jordan to drop her at her doorstep, the only few words that had been spoken again had consisted of him askin

▬▬▬▬▬●●▬▬▬▬▬A loud thud resounded through the entire apartment, touching even up to the second floor of the apartment where the sleeping figure of the woman now laid comfortably on the bed.She laid inhumanly still on the bed. Her body was lying as straight as a log of wood with both of her hands placed on each other, resting on her lower abdomen. One would think she was a corpse if it weren't for the regular rise and fall of her chest, an indication that she was still breathing perfectly.Another thud reechoed, pulling the young woman out of her light slumber as she jolted out of the bed with a gasp.With her emerald green eyes opened wide, she clutched her chest as she tried to steady her jagged breathing. Beads of cold sweat donned her forehead and atop the bridge of her nose.She softly ran her hand up and down her chest while counting backwards like her therapist had taught her as a kid. Overt