(The following is best read in a really deep, gravelly mental voice:)
The ashtray was full. The whiskey bottle was empty. Time to call it a day. But just as I was standing up, there's a knock on the door and in walks this dame. Classy bit: curly blonde hair and a figure to die for, squeezed into a tight red dress. She smiles at me and it's like all of Broadway lit up at once.
"Mr Marlowe? I have a job for you. I want you to find something for me."
I wave her to a seat and sit down again behind my desk, trying not to look too eager. The slatted light from the window creates bars of black across her face.
"What have you lost, Miss?"
She leans forward, her voice dropped to a confidentially low purr.
"My Key. I need you to find my Key for me, Mr Marlowe."
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Date: 2009-10-16 09:54 pm (UTC)The ashtray was full. The whiskey bottle was empty. Time to call it a day. But just as I was standing up, there's a knock on the door and in walks this dame. Classy bit: curly blonde hair and a figure to die for, squeezed into a tight red dress. She smiles at me and it's like all of Broadway lit up at once.
"Mr Marlowe? I have a job for you. I want you to find something for me."
I wave her to a seat and sit down again behind my desk, trying not to look too eager. The slatted light from the window creates bars of black across her face.
"What have you lost, Miss?"
She leans forward, her voice dropped to a confidentially low purr.
"My Key. I need you to find my Key for me, Mr Marlowe."