Noir

[robinbloke]

My stories usually just encompass a first paragraph, the rest is left for you to decide.

This is my first attempt at a film noir style, and probably my first in direct first person as well.



"That's not the answer." I replied.
I could see it in her eyes now, stone grey like the sky above the whole city. There was little hope for the future in those eyes, just a numb acceptance of the world as it was. Asking me for help was all just part of a charade, a play in which the part and fate she played had already been decided.
I stubbed out my cigar on the wall as the flame threatened to start burning my fingers. Some part of my mind told me that it should probably be raining, it always seemed to be raining at moments like this, so why not now?
"I'll take the job." I told her, "I'll let you know costs tomorrow, but for tonight you find yourself somewhere to stay, a hotel away from here." I paused a moment for emphasis, "Don't go home."
She nodded to me, I could read her face like a book, it was a skill. In this line of work you learnt to read people, it was the most crucial part of the job - working out which job to take just from the look on someone’s face. Her face told me that her sky had opened a crack to let a faint ray of sunshine break through and give her a glimmer of hope. I didn't know if I could justify that, but I wasn't going to spoil it now that her world had been shown a colour other than grey.
"I'll be in touch." I told her. The cigar fell from my fingers as I turned and walked down the alleyway towards the old warehouse.
As if on cue, it started to rain.

Comments

[the-lady-lily.livejournal.com]

In an unrelated comment - I saw this and thought of you. (Worksafe, although work-time-wasting).

[robinbloke.livejournal.com]

Horah! Penguins innnnn spaaaaaaaaaace!

Thanks :)

film noir

[morfessa.livejournal.com]

loved it. The rain falls like tears making tracks on the grey pavements then harder so that it hurts as he walks along stinging like the slap he received so many years ago on a cold dark night just lkike this...... Tears/rain cleansing the soul/city always run down the windscrren of our hero's car, appartmetn window - only ever a lone tear which he wipes unseen from his cheek catching the drop with the back of his hand before it has time to form and fall softly onto the floor........

[the-mendicant.livejournal.com]

Darn, you really must stop teasing us and write a whole story!