/lit/ - Literature

Brutalist architecture is plebeian. Futurist Architecture is patrician

Is there any guide on how to write that is a great piece of literature by itself?

>>7554971
>If you're up to read more stuff, then yeah, absolutely

What Adam feared, was what happened to him after his resourcefulness was exhausted. Not so much in being quieted by Bastille, or thrown off the side of the Plate, but more so in being abandoned by the group completely. A cease in communications was calculated by Adam to be a pain that would be too great to bear. He wasn’t sure if it was a set of circumstances he’d be able to push on through. Life since following the barmaid from Les Yeux Ouverts and ending up tied to a chair in a darkened basement had become… Demanding. After the interrogation from Son’s of Bastille’s Lela and her British associate, Adam woke up in his apartment–which had been nearly completely stripped of its valuables(it should be noted that close to all of his books were untouched, and the few that weren’t hadn’t been stolen, a fact which he had been immensely grateful for)–with the sour taste of either vomit, mucus, or some vomit-mucus combination in his mouth and a lightly dressed chest wound which was beginning to suffer from a red leakage and was soon to be in dire need of fresh bandages. As he came to and the blurring of his vision began to fade, he realized his door, which at first glance looked to have been simply left wide open from where he was sitting on the floor, was revealed to be, upon closer inspection, completely gone from the small apartment’s premises.

As in, no longer there.

As in, it had been as if the door had grown existentially tired with the unfulfilling life it led being a door all these years, came to the conclusion that this whole opening and closing thing wasn’t how it wanted to spend the rest of its life, made the conscious decision to unhinge itself, and finally left to pursue a passion closer to its heart. Adam guessed sailing or river rafting.

Soon after that he saw the flatscreen that had been mounted into the wall by his landlord was also missing from its place upon the wall. As was the wall mount. All that remained in the place of the television was stripped paint and ragged holes where the flatscreen’s mount had been violently pulled from the wall. The TV, it seemed, had not left of its own volition. And it was at this point that Adam realized he had been robbed. Soon after that he noted the heavy damage done to the walls and floor of his studio, and it was roughly five minutes after that that he came to the conclusion, much like his door had, that it was time for him to move on with his life, and most importantly to a place far far away from this apartment and what would be a very angry landlord who wasn’t likely to look fondly on the harm inflicted unto the tenant space rented out to the young Addison.