Doesn’t matter what city or town you call home, nor the languages you speak or don’t.Â Many roads lead to the City of Night.
Maybe you were running from a debt, escaping a former lover’s wrath, getting away for a weekend at the beach or camp or a friend’s condo on the beach, or maybe you were just going to catch a film at the art house theater.
I hope you like whiskey.
You might’ve been a mechanic, foundry worker, or nuclear physicist, a burger flipper, number cruncher, or professional gun available to the highest bidder.
Famous, infamous, notorious, anonymous, invisible, aspiring, over the hill, or at the top of your game.Â The past doesn’t matter so much in Midnight.Â The mayor was a boxer, upon a time, and perhaps he killed someone in the ring or in an alley or in broad daylight.
You might be afraid of the dark.Â Claustrophobic.Â A faithful sun worshipper.
You might have earned money, or inherited it, or stolen it, and maybe your brought some with you.Â Maybe not.
Perhaps you were born in Chicago or Shanghai or Calcutta or Lima or Copenhagen or Perth or Stockholm or Vancouver or Damascus or Karachi.
If you’ve been to every continent, sailed the seven seas and five oceans and all the rivers, ridden the rails across borders and time zones and deserts, climbed Kilimanjaro and Everest and the fiery mountains of Pele, you’ll find your compasses, sextants, charts, maps, global positioning satellites, and even your stars, will fail you here.
Maybe you were smart.Â Quick.Â Funny.Â Good-looking.Â Maybe you were lucky.
Won’t make no difference here.Â Welcome to Midnight.