The following short excerpt is taken from a much longer project I’ve been working on (as part of a consulting gig). I figured I’d upload something creative, since I’ve strayed a bit away from the imaginative (and will probably continue to do so) in this particular journal.

Lights

I remember the first time I saw the lights of the Strip. It was late at night, and I had been driving through the desert from LA. Angry winds filled the sky with dust, and the air itself seemed to glow with a kind of diffuse light. As you approach Las Vegas, you can see its lights from miles away. But nothing prepares you for that final hill, where Route 15 winds into the valley from the South. As you crest it, you can see the beacon atop the Luxor shining into the night, and the lights of the Strip glowing like rhinestones scattered across the desert. It’s a view that could only exist in America, a view that speaks to the scoundrel in everyone. Because you know that hidden among those lights are all tomorrow’s parties…