Sunday, August 12, 2007

My foray into Noir Fiction. Part one.

It was mid afternoon. That time of the day again. The hot breeze was blowing across the street, the debris it carried clinging on to my hair. Not like I cared. I had bigger problems to worry about then. Always been like that this time of year anyway. I should know. I've been through eighteen of them. Cloud above hinted a drizzle later on. Maybe a shower past midnight. But it was the least of my worries. I might as well be a weatherman, I thought with a hint of a smile as I continued my walk.

The building ahead grew larger as I neared it. Visual perception or something, they called it. But I had more than the Gestalt Laws of Organisation on my mind today. I quickened my pace. Time was short. To-do list was long. I quickened my pace. Again. Degenerative creativity alarm went off. No time for inventive vocab today, I told it, ripping out the plug for good measure. Time was short.

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