The Antagonist

I looked out the blue stained window onto the city below, city of angels they call it.

More like a city of sinners , but who am I to pass judgment, me sitting in my glass castle like a tyrant king looking down on less worthy subjects, both my hands shackled to my question. On my left a 40oz bottle of Jack Daniels with some disappointment to wash it down with, or do I just go the quicker way a fully loaded 9mm safety off finger on the trigger lays in my right hand. A gamble in my head between dying slowly in the bottom of a bottle or just get it over with quickly, guess it wouldn't be a very good story if I just ended it there, Washed go Actor kills self I. His LA penthouse. I dropped them both and swaggered over to my awning , the breeze of the city hit me like a truck made of cigarettes and sex. The sent of lust that filled this city was disgusting. I looked off the edge and the people down there looked like ants unknowing of the battle going on 25 floors above them, this battle was not fought with swords or guns, it was fought with memories and words and me

I'm the target ...