Sunday, July 10, 2011

A Fragment of Noir

I’m a detective, the hardboiled kind. The kind that cracks you open instead of the other way around. But I knew this case wasn’t going to be over easy. For starters, the dame hadn’t shown up yet. There was always a dame involved somehow. This time, though, there was just a box. Brown, wrapped in paper, unceremoniously dumped outside my office, right on top of the pile of unpaid bills and right underneath my name on the door: D. Guacamole, Private Eye.