The Whislte Has Blown -Short Modernism Story- by David (me)

      As if I had know my full potential than now came to a realization I was nothing but a fool that lacked significance. What a cruel world I suppose the great depression  was nothing but a modern day black plague during the medieval times. Our hard work wasted away to something impeccable something we least expected it. I Thomas have know New York since the dawn of the Great War till the stock market crash. I've come to the to my hometown because of my father's funeral the old hag my mother was sooner or later going to have to face this harsh reality. My coupe driving through the brisk of moonlight shined a glow that of angel .. no more of seraph so to speak. But as I drove around Central Park I noticed something of a feminine figure shinnying  like a diamond when first polished. I decided to take a look and find out more for myself upon this city of a hill ....*whoosh*.....the faint of darkness on that fateful day I listened to the song of her whistle.