STYLESTALKER, ELIZABETH CURRUTHERS
It’s midnight in the City of Angels and while decent citizens sleep
the sleep of the righteous, Hollywood lounges are heaving with hard liquor and
the thick smoke of cigars. Outside, street posts cast shadows across the eroded
pavement, rain drips from men’s trench coats, and the femme fatale lures us
into her world of crime and seduction. Appearance is everything. Beauty is a
curse. Where decadence is juxtaposed with decay... things are not what they
seem.
