I was young then, see? Still wet behind the ears. The prospect of a big hit with a new coil was burning through my brain like a Beverly Hills teen with her daddy's new Mastercard. I couldn't think straight. It was hot, I tell ya. Hot! But I couldn't get a dealer on the string, see? So I took it into the seamy underbelly of the city.
Yeah, the city. That grimy canvas bag of broken men, broken dreams...broken hearts. If those dark and dingy alleys behind pawn shops and hardware stores could only talk...what sordid tales of graft, extortion, bribes...yes, maybe even murder, could they reveal?
This wasn't the first clean detector to go bad, soured by the results of constant failures to produce that one winner, a big one, the real payola! There's a rotting desperation that builds from those repeated memories of "close, buddy, but no cigar." This had long gone past an interminable itch that just had to be scratched, beyond the sore that wouldn't heal from all the repitious picking of the scab. This had become a festering infection of sepid and putrid pus of lost time, money and patience with only the shattered prospects of percious metal, any shiny metal, resting warm, comforting and yours, in your hand...like the painted fingers of some high priced broad of the night, even if only for a night...any dark night.
Yeah, I was young then. Just a kid, see? But, I wouldn't be young long. Not after that night. Little did I know just how dark things could get...looking down the eternal barrel of a pistol in my face....
This is my story...take it for what it's worth. Maybe it and dime will still get ya a cup of joe. If not...well, at least you still got a dime...
THE SNAKE COILS - Coming SOON!
[attachment 7874 jha.film.noir.jpg]
Yeah, the city. That grimy canvas bag of broken men, broken dreams...broken hearts. If those dark and dingy alleys behind pawn shops and hardware stores could only talk...what sordid tales of graft, extortion, bribes...yes, maybe even murder, could they reveal?
This wasn't the first clean detector to go bad, soured by the results of constant failures to produce that one winner, a big one, the real payola! There's a rotting desperation that builds from those repeated memories of "close, buddy, but no cigar." This had long gone past an interminable itch that just had to be scratched, beyond the sore that wouldn't heal from all the repitious picking of the scab. This had become a festering infection of sepid and putrid pus of lost time, money and patience with only the shattered prospects of percious metal, any shiny metal, resting warm, comforting and yours, in your hand...like the painted fingers of some high priced broad of the night, even if only for a night...any dark night.
Yeah, I was young then. Just a kid, see? But, I wouldn't be young long. Not after that night. Little did I know just how dark things could get...looking down the eternal barrel of a pistol in my face....
This is my story...take it for what it's worth. Maybe it and dime will still get ya a cup of joe. If not...well, at least you still got a dime...
THE SNAKE COILS - Coming SOON!
[attachment 7874 jha.film.noir.jpg]
