Whipping and winding to other end of their dominion, the jeerer coils its massive body, ascending higher through the night expanse.

A lone bookstore, hoisted up by time stands near the corner of Court and Warren, peeling paint suspended by cobwebs.

Flipping the script on the famous question, "Where Brooklyn at?" Seriously, where is Brooklyn...

A group of teenage girls pour out of the Utica A train station, faces greased with Vaseline, their hair tied up.

I would say Brooklyn don't bite but that's a bold-face lie... still pop in & kick it with us. Snacks can be purchased at the corner bodega.

Enter a Cre8tion that puts man's mind to rest of life beyond planet earth; where ancient corridors usher into places man has not tread.