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Sample: Film NoirThe rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. Jack Callahan stood in the doorway of Evelyn Mercer's apartment and watched the water run down her window in rivulets that caught the neon from the sign across the street—a sign that read _LODGING_ in letters one of which had burned out, turning the word into _LO_ING_, which seemed fitting, because everything in...0 Comments 0 Shares 12 Views 0 Reviews
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Sample: Film NoirThe rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. Jack Callahan stood in the doorway of Evelyn Mercer's apartment and watched the water run down her window in rivulets that caught the neon from the sign across the street—a sign that read _LODGING_ in letters one of which had burned out, turning the word into _LO_ING_, which seemed fitting, because everything in...0 Comments 0 Shares 12 Views 0 Reviews
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Sample: Film NoirThe rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker. Jack Callahan stood in the doorway of Evelyn Mercer's apartment and watched the water run down her window in rivulets that caught the neon from the sign across the street—a sign that read _LODGING_ in letters one of which had burned out, turning the word into _LO_ING_, which seemed fitting, because everything in...0 Comments 0 Shares 13 Views 0 Reviews
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Sample: Film NoirThe rain in Los Angeles doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the dirt slicker.Jack Callahan stood in the doorway of Evelyn Mercer's apartment and watched the water run down her window in rivulets that caught the neon from the sign across the street—a sign that read _LODGING_ in letters one of which had burned out, turning the word into _LO_ING_, which seemed fitting, because everything in...0 Comments 0 Shares 12 Views 0 Reviews
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The Double Echo (Film Noir)**Based on Variant Path V-04 (T4-07: Despair Intensification)** The city was a concrete throat, and it was choking me. My name is Leo, and I make a living cleaning up the messes of people who have too much money and too little conscience. But this time, the mess was mine. She was a lounge singer named Mia, with a voice like velvet and a heart like a bruised peach. She had died in my apartment—a...0 Comments 0 Shares 16 Views 0 Reviews
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The Film Noir DetectiveThe rain had been falling on Brooklyn for eleven days straight. It wasn't water anymore—not really. It was something older. Something that remembered when this city was still water. Victor Crane sat in his basement lab on Atlantic Avenue and watched the petri dishes breathe. He had been a man once. Not a bad man, not a good one. A researcher at Bell Labs, or at least he had been, before the...0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews
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The Film Noir DetectiveThe rain hadn't stopped for three days. It drummed against the fire escape like a thousand impatient fingers, the kind of sound that gets under your skin and settles in your bones. I was perched in the third-floor window of the tenement on West Forty-Second, binoculars pressed to my eyes, watching a man who didn't know he was being watched. His name was Edgar Croft. Former prosecutor of the...0 Comments 0 Shares 31 Views 0 Reviews
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The Film Noir DetectiveThe Film Noir Detective The rain hadn't stopped for eleven days. It fell on Chicago like a judgment, relentless and cold and indifferent to the suffering it caused. Victor Koen sat in his office on the fourth floor of a building on State Street that had been an accounting firm before the accounting firm went bankrupt and Victor took it over because rent was cheap and cheap was all he could...0 Comments 0 Shares 12 Views 0 Reviews
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The Film Noir Detective## Act I: The Rain on the Window (20%) The rain hadn't stopped for eleven days. It drummed against my office window like it was trying to get in, or maybe trying to warn me away. I was sitting in the dark, watching the streetlights blur through the water-streaked glass, and wondering if I should turn on the light or just keep sitting in the shadows where things made sense. My name's Jack...0 Comments 0 Shares 12 Views 0 Reviews
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The Last Transmission from County OneThe first thing Detective Frank Kowalski noticed about the school was that it had no windows on the east wall. The second thing he noticed was that the teacher was drawing on a blackboard that leaned against the brick like a drunk against a lamppost. Kowalski had been sent to McKean County by the state police to investigate the education budget, which had been declining for twenty-three...0 Comments 0 Shares 15 Views 0 Reviews
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