Giazotto’s Betrayal

by solaris2001

Closing the door behind him and walking in grave motion to the street, he had no emotional or spiritual or visceral vocabulary to codify the state of being into which he had been thrown. The conversation had been terse and clichéd, yet for some reason he could not have predicted this extrapolated reality. The pasteboard mask of the universe had been torn away, revealing a featureless wretch beneath. A woman screamed from far off and his mind found an adagio, the most beautiful and sublime forgery ever known, as he feet followed his subconscious compositions into the symphony of traffic.

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