Whiskey on the Rooftop and a Flair of the Dark.

The milieu looked demure with no sign of movement. Nevertheless, it was bizzarrely beautiful, with the full moon bathing the light in an ethereal glow. Standing atop my terrace, I gazed intently into the abyss-like nothingness. The broken glass lying on the road below glimmered in a silvery hue. I was just beginning to marvel at the irony of unlikely beauty when I was jolted out of my reverie by the sound of shredding guitars and screeching voices. I looked around bleary eyed for the source of the cacophony. It happened to be my phone. The imbecile I am, I had set the tone to "Freezing Moon" by Mayhem. No, I am not a fan of that godforsaken band byu any mean. Just that the tone annoys a lot of people and for some ridiculously unimaginable reason, it gives a savage, even vindictive pleasure seeing them cringe.

Anyways, I picked up the phone.

"You are such a retard", screeched a voice, amid hysterical laughter.

Ok, normally I would've disdainfully said, "I beg your freaking pardon?". But it was Whiskey on the other end(His name is indeed a tad different from that just as my name sounds different from Tango). So yea, Whizz was allowed a few liberties. He happened to be one of my best friends. "Is this the real life, is this a fantasy", he continued, blissfully oblivious.

Whiskey drunk on whiskey. In all likelihood, RC. Unbelievably irritaing. However, bound by civilised eitiquette, I decided to play along and not swear.

"Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality", I finished the first few lines for him and left him to sing Bohemian Rhapsody. Alone. Not that he'd notice. He defintely didn't notice that I had hung up.

I tried to get back to glass-gazing. To no avail. Boredom set in in a matter of nanoseconds.Writing rhymes would keep me awake for a few more hours. Perhaps. No, indeed. Insomnia was my indulgence. Indeed. Anyways, so the flash of brilliance(the nursery rhyme) was to be called "Flair of the Dark", tweaking the title of Iron Maiden's "Fear of the Dark". Yea, I love plagiarising. Anyways, here's how the first few lines went-

"Darkness, she called out to him.
'Join my ranks', she said.
I am the only one who dares
to live among the whispering dead."

No, I do not intend to type in the whole thing, primarily because of two reasons-

a.) It would be too cumbersome typing the "poem" that stretches to gargantuan proportions.
b.) I am obsessively paranoid about people swiping my "work".

* I might be a ne'er-do-well 18 year old who can't write for nuts, but I sincerely believe that everything I write deserves the Pulitzer and nothing less.

Ah, yes. I can pretty much pass off as Narcissus' great-great-great-great-great grandaughter. Did I mention I'm acutely and dangerously self obsessed? No? Ah, What a pity.