I can’t help but ask, “Do you know where you are?

History doesn’t start with a tall building
and a card with your name written on it, but jokes do. I think someone is taking
us for suckers and is playing a mean game.

She leaves my side and heads deeper into
the apartment singing, “-if the spirit tries to hide, its temple far away… a
copper for those they ask, a diamond for those who stay.

I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and partially concealed by the shade of an alley is a sinister silhouette beneath a crimson cowl, beaming a demonic smile which spans from cheek to swollen cheek.