Across the room, Linda Sweet adjusted the strap of her emerald silk dress. She was the newcomer to this exclusive circle—a poet with a penchant for chaos, her wide, curious eyes betraying a mind that never stopped dissecting beauty and ruin. Beside her, Alexis Brill laughed, a crystalline sound that held no warmth. Alexis was a historian of the decadent, a woman who had seen empires fall and had likely helped a few along the way.
Linda thought of her own poetry—the messy, bleeding lines about heartbreak and longing. This woman’s confession was too perfect, too polished. “Lie,” Linda whispered. “That’s the lie. You’ve loved so much it broke you. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re so careful.” -Roccosiffredi- Linda Sweet- Alexis Brill - Roc...
The assignment for the evening was absurdly simple, as all of Rocco’s games were: Tell a truth. Tell a lie. We will guess which is which. Across the room, Linda Sweet adjusted the strap
And somewhere in the dark, Rocco smiled. The composition was complete. Alexis was a historian of the decadent, a