Adachi. Outskirts of Tokyo. Old and filthy. Unforgivable sins in the city of the sleek and the new. Large arcade, full of acrid smoke. Tobacco scented. Lights dim. Late night. Everyone focused, numb and obsessed. Lanky geeks, sweaty schizoids, forlorn losers. Oblivious to the passage of time.  Atmospheric electronic thumping beats the preferred music of the evening.

Tense stand offs abound. Violent contests in virtual landscapes. Angelic female figures on projected screens slide and dash. Rending vibrating electric samurai weapons with blue tracers. Red blood. Game over.  ”Uso! Konoyaro!”

Talent, when combined with competition, fosters betting. Shark sniff out marks. Shark looks new to the game. Shark even throws the game once or twice. Then its all “Hey, Bud, lets go, one more game.” “Bakatare, jyozujanai yo.” goes the mark. “Just one more game. Lets put some yen on it.”

Game changes, Shark now shows skills. Practiced and true. A veteran. Intense blitz positioning. Jet fighter maneuvering. Blue light weaving. Blades brought to bare on over confident knave. The expert strikes. Crimson trails feather out from delicate limbs and torso. Enemy’s digital cadaver lies in ruin.”Shinjiraranai…” the mark laments.

Back alley. Smell of broiled fish and old wet garbage. Fresh winnings lining leather jacket pockets. Shark had his full. Lights up cheap Chinese cigarette. Waits for his girl in the neon glow. Sound of drunken revelers passing in the street. She’s late, she’s always late.

This was a writing assignment called Three Word Wednesday. You visit this site and it offers three words for you to try and incorporate into a poem or a story. It’s supposed to help over come writers block. My words were angelic, foster and ruin. My inspiration was Gibson and his adoration for all things Japanese cool. I got the arcade image from here

Adachi. Outskirts of Tokyo. Old and filthy. Unforgivable sins in the city of the sleek and the new. Large arcade, full of acrid smoke. Tobacco scented. Lights dim. Late night. Everyone focused, numb and obsessed. Lanky geeks, sweaty schizoids, forlorn losers. Oblivious to the passage of time.  Atmospheric electronic thumping beats the preferred music of the evening.

Tense stand offs abound. Violent contests in virtual landscapes. Angelic female figures on projected screens slide and dash. Rending vibrating electric samurai weapons with blue tracers. Red blood. Game over.  ”Uso! Konoyaro!”

Talent, when combined with competition, fosters betting. Shark sniff out marks. Shark looks new to the game. Shark even throws the game once or twice. Then its all “Hey, Bud, lets go, one more game.” “Bakatare, jyozujanai yo.” goes the mark. “Just one more game. Lets put some yen on it.”

Game changes, Shark now shows skills. Practiced and true. A veteran. Intense blitz positioning. Jet fighter maneuvering. Blue light weaving. Blades brought to bare on over confident knave. The expert strikes. Crimson trails feather out from delicate limbs and torso. Enemy’s digital cadaver lies in ruin.”Shinjiraranai…” the mark laments.

Back alley. Smell of broiled fish and old wet garbage. Fresh winnings lining leather jacket pockets. Shark had his full. Lights up cheap Chinese cigarette. Waits for his girl in the neon glow. Sound of drunken revelers passing in the street. She’s late, she’s always late.

This was a writing assignment called Three Word Wednesday. You visit this site and it offers three words for you to try and incorporate into a poem or a story. It’s supposed to help over come writers block. My words were angelic, foster and ruin. My inspiration was Gibson and his adoration for all things Japanese cool. I got the arcade image from here

Adachi. Outskirts of Tokyo. Old and filthy. Unforgivable sins in the city of the sleek and the new. Large arcade, full of acrid smoke. Tobacco scented. Lights dim. Late night. Everyone focused, numb and obsessed. Lanky geeks, sweaty schizoids, forlorn losers. Oblivious to the passage of time.  Atmospheric electronic thumping beats the preferred music of the evening.

Tense stand offs abound. Violent contests in virtual landscapes. Angelic female figures on projected screens slide and dash. Rending vibrating electric samurai weapons with blue tracers. Red blood. Game over.  ”Uso! Konoyaro!”

Talent, when combined with competition, fosters betting. Shark sniff out marks. Shark looks new to the game. Shark even throws the game once or twice. Then its all “Hey, Bud, lets go, one more game.” “Bakatare, jyozujanai yo.” goes the mark. “Just one more game. Lets put some yen on it.”

Game changes, Shark now shows skills. Practiced and true. A veteran. Intense blitz positioning. Jet fighter maneuvering. Blue light weaving. Blades brought to bare on over confident knave. The expert strikes. Crimson trails feather out from delicate limbs and torso. Enemy’s digital cadaver lies in ruin.”Shinjiraranai…” the mark laments.

Back alley. Smell of broiled fish and old wet garbage. Fresh winnings lining leather jacket pockets. Shark had his full. Lights up cheap Chinese cigarette. Waits for his girl in the neon glow. Sound of drunken revelers passing in the street. She’s late, she’s always late.

This was a writing assignment called Three Word Wednesday. You visit this site and it offers three words for you to try and incorporate into a poem or a story. It’s supposed to help over come writers block. My words were angelic, foster and ruin. My inspiration was Gibson and his adoration for all things Japanese cool. I got the arcade image from here