Who knows, maybe you'll see parts of this in a future story I write, but for now it's a taste of the style and tone of Red Lory. Speaking of Red Lory, several exciting decisions have been made concerning it. I'll fill you in when the dust settles. For now though, I hope you enjoy this short sample I've called Splitsville: A Noir Breakup
Between us were two glasses of stale beer, a pack of smokes, a foul ashtray and a serving of tension so generous it would last us the night. The black diamond veil of her velvet and satin pillbox hat was pulled down. I remained intent on meeting her indifferent blue-eyed stare through the netting.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked.
She raised a thin eyebrow high. “I don’t think we, you and I, go anywhere.”
With her black-gloved hand she raised a cigarette to her cardinal lips, removed it and exhaled from the corner of her mouth. She mashed the cigarette into the tray, and I stared at the bent shape topped with a ring of lipstick.
I opened my mouth to speak, but I stuttered my noises until I managed to say, “What’s to be done?”
“You could put some music on.”
“All right,” I nodded and walked to the juke, feeding it my last coin. I pressed a selection and watched the record slide into place. When I turned I saw her stand from the table and walk toward me. The music started, and we embraced on the open dance floor, couples taking notice of us. Just as with light, human eyes are attracted to a shape like hers.
My hands slid down her sides to her hips as she danced against me slowly.
“We was yesterday,” she whispered in my ear. “Remember this for tomorrow.”