The Genre Demon

A tale written years ago on a boring night in Boston

Fog had rolled in off the harbor, shrouding Boston’s gleaming towers in grey. Some days, she resembled London, mock gaslights peering through the dark and murky night, pedestrians strolling through her version of Hyde Park, nimble nascent nocturne nomads on Newbury, suburban Trojans in SUV’s sailing down her narrow streets. Talons sunk deep, it sat perched on the Hancock admiring…

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