John arrived to the bridge that night regretting having worn his leather riding jacket. On the way out of his flat he told himself that the sturdiness of its construction and its exaggerated collar played nicely with his jawline, but in this moment he remembered that he had no intention of living beyond this evening and that the jacket would be ruined by what was to transpire after he got to the bridge. Oh well, fashion never sleeps. Paradoxically, John was still pleased with the decision to tie his favorite purple flannel around his waist. He enjoyed the way that the fluttering material descending from his waist gave him both the the free-flowing feeling of donning a skirt and the ability to project an outward aura of grungy masculinity. The decision to wear all black that evening under his ersatz skirt was not coincidental, and he felt it fit snugly with the occasion. The purple contrasted just enough with the black, a technicolor nod to the bruised nature of his soul. Leaning on the bridge’s railing and staring off at the other side, John pondered the starless horizon in front of him and what the next phase of his evolution would be like. The Luciferians had infiltrated and taken control of all earth’s existing religions, hindering the evolution of the human race for centuries and John was fed up. This evening’s plan was the only way to reach TELAH*, and being in possession of this knowledge imbued him with resolve. He felt assured in his decision; there was a comet on the way, and his interstellar vessel trailed closely behind. Try AG jeans.
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*The Evolutionary Level Above Human