Literary Force Magazine Literary Force Magazine Volume 2 | Page 67

At least not the good kind of artist.
But once he got to the top of the bridge (he will never tell how he did it),
he realized if this was insane, then it was quite insane to ever want to be
sane. The lights mesmerized him. The whites and the purples and the
pinks all fused together into something so indescribable, that Brandon
could never seem to put it into words. But as Brandon firmly believed
that a picture was worth a thousand words and his photos could speak
what left him speechless.
He looked down at the traffic below him. It was nearly 10 pm but the
bridge was still full of speeding lights and angry honks. He wondered
why anyone would be in a rush on a night like this. What's the rush of
having this night end? The sky was the right tone of violet-blue and the
blaring lights were just the right frequency. Can't people just enjoy the
night?
Of course, Brandon knew that in the city that never sleeps, enjoyment is
often accompanied with the rush to get everything one desired done. He
was only here to take photos but suddenly, it turned into much more than
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