Sample V-03: The Neon Betrayal
(Film Noir) The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash anything away; it just smeared the neon lights across the asphalt like wet paint on a canvas of grime. I sat in my office, the kind of place where the dust had settled into the carpets and the only thing that worked was the bottle of rye in the bottom drawer. My name is Mark, and I’m a private investigator, which is a fancy way of saying I get...
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