“The Detective” / Memorable Fancies #831

[“I dreamt of lost detectives” – Roberto Bolaño]

The detective wakes up in a cheap motel and doesn’t know where he is or what has happened to him. He walks outside. There’s a seedy diner, some old cars, a flat horizon. A woman in a cocktail dress, who smokes, finds him and becomes a client. She can’t pay him much, but it helps. She says “ain’t” and “gonna” a lot. Then there are other poor clients, never very many.

He ages. Later, as his life ebbs, he is more or less satisfied with how things have gone, all things considered. But he never finds out where he was. Or who.

<END>

THE PITCH

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        See you tomorrow! Whatever happens here, you won’t be expecting it.

Malice-cover

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