TwitFic: Noir Week

June 8, 2010

» At the end of the bar sat trouble in silk stockings. The tight red dress left little to the imagination. Nor did his three day old stubble.

» I watch her drink most of my coffee unsure how to mention she picked up the wrong cup. And what she needs to do to counteract the poison.

» Hidden by shadows a shade darker than his suit, he regretted what he had to do. But the die had been cast when she took the last cruller.

» Shovel still in one hand, he placed the other on the crying boy’s shoulder. “In the sping, we can dig up the puppy’s bones. Neat, huh?”

Mr. Dapper’s Tweets of Wisdom.


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