Adjusting himself, Sebastián staggers from his bedroom, pulling out a monster wedgie. He smells his fingers. Nothing...

Gridlocked vehicles idle in crosswalks and intersections. Owners blast radios and chastise children to manage.

Ding-dong, rings the bell at the McNally residence. "I got it mom!" Peter yells, hobbling to the door, one step, two!

Enchanting melodies without source cascade from rafters, hugging massive, wooden columns of The Village Idiot Inn's lobby.

Melodies of aerial psalmists darting to and fro from perch to limb lend to the symphony of buzzing bees, cruising music, and playing...

Ain't no wolves in Brooklyn... but there are werewolves. It's called Brooklyn Zoo for a reason! Clutch your pearls and build a brick house!

Four men make their way up to Nostalgia from Hoyt along Warren like an arrow. Silent are their steps, quick, their pace.

A symphony of traffic jams, frustration, opportunity, and indulgence lullaby and inflame. Thick, ominous clouds hang low south of Park Slope

Flickering street lamps and police floodlights on the outskirts of public housing illuminate Hoyt Street.

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

"Aye yo miss, lemme get pork fried rice wit four chicken wings - fried hard and chopped up... barbecue and hot sauce.

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

Church-goers pack into a tiny, brownstone between a Chinese restaurant and hair salon.

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.