Slip Alley III

Jack steps into a bar,
faded leather sofas
wallpaper once flocked.

“A glass of your best Shiraz, please”,
he stares into dark ruby depths,
trying to remember
how he came to be here.

A rustling in his pocket,
an embossed envelope,
he opens it
and reads the contract:
For each rival you eliminate
you shall receive
ten thousand dollars.

Jack drains his glass, stands,
cracks his knuckles,
saunters to the ATM,
ten thousand dollars
deposited today,
he flips a coin: heads.

He leaves, walks
picking his way
past silver coins of the moon
caught in oily puddles.

He wonders how the John Doe
had been his rival.

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11 thoughts on “Slip Alley III

  1. “silver coins of the moon caught in oily puddles” love that! Agree with Matt about the excellent noir quality. Give us more! Great stuff :))

  2. lol πŸ™‚ very cool didn’t know you were taking to writing stories of sorts like this very much ..especially the dark edge you have give for readers .. makes me want more :))) beez

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