A la Noir? I think so.

Jerry had always been a big name in the industry. He'd headed up a lot of big projects, wrangled some big game, and talked the talk with the best of 'em. Really driven the bottom line if you know what I mean. I had a lot of respect for Jerry. He was always a man who walked too close to the line, but he watched out for his guys. I know he generally tried to do the right thing, but in this crazy world, sometimes you got to watch out for yourself first. If his nose wasn't as clean as it should have been, we were all willing to look the other way. After all, business is business and a man's gotta feed his family.

Nobody was surprised when he left to do his own thing. Jerry was a man with big ideas and sometimes you could see him getting impatient-like trying to squeeze things past the big cheeses upstairs. So when he walked, we all wished him good luck. So it was business as usual and from time to time we would hear from little Jimmy that he was doing ok with his new gig. Funny business, poor Jimmy. That kid was pretty cut up when Jerry walked. I think he really depended on him and it broke his heart when Jerry left. Jimmy wasn't really a bad sort, reminded me of a scared little rabbit, but with a good head on his shoulders. He'd been here a long time but I think he was real happy just dishing out stuff. He never wanted to be a big mover and shaker. So when Boss called him into his office and told him to start taking on some of Jerry's old duties, that poor kid turned three shades of pale and came out shaking like an autumn leaf.

That kid didn't want to be Jerry. Hell, I think he would have given anything to have Jerry back. He didn't want to have to get up and tell every Tom, Dick and Harry on the floor what to do. The thought terrified him, all of us could see that. None of us could figure what the Boss was aiming at, pulling a stunt like that with Jimmy. Yeah, so what if the kid had been here a long time. But anyone with half a bean upstairs could see the kid was scared shitless. But if there's one thing you learn at the Company, you don't question the boss.

Now me, I just keep my head down and my eyes open. I've been around the block, so to speak, and I'd done all sorts of crazy shit in my time. Coming to the Company was like coming back home to say howdy-doody to the folks. I knew I had a sweet deal and I wasn't going to sour the pot by jawing in, so to speak.

Dirge of an Unhappy Troll

Nasty, nasty, gnashing of teeth! Bits of bone and crumbs of stone, and so I hide, a loathsome, loathsome troll.

An angry, angry thing I am, and sure to eat whatever I can. Rue the friend or foe that dares, to cross me, and my loathsome stare!

I know not when I started here, always cold and hungry, an ugly smear, on this fresh and verdant 'scape, I am ugly, full of sins, with nothing to put on the plate.

The church it spits on me, but more because I mock it for what it stands, for what god in pitiless sky, could love a troll like me.

So under bridge, under stone, I make my home, and mash these bones.

I suck the marrow bits dry and pick my teeth, and look for something more to eat.

For feed my soul I must, a shriveled, dessicated husk, unspoilt by the warmth of friendly touch.

I hate and hate but don't know what I hate. Bitterness, dull and cold, lies heavy, blank and unrepentant on my head.

But hate cannot endure, it's the emptiness more that I fear.

And fear it is that keeps me alive, for what happens to me if I were to die?

Or perhaps death doesn't bother here, where it's cold, wet, and to me, no one ever speaks.

Random Daily Writing 02/17/10

[I've been watching a lot of film noir and reading a shit ton of Agatha Christie novels on my iKindle. Love it. Agatha Christie was a master of character development and dialogue. If I could write a fraction as well as she did, I could die happy.]

I think I'm one of those people who doesn't know how to let things go.

I swiveled in my chair and nodded to Harry as he walked in.

"What's up?" I asked, casual-like, as Harry slid into an armchair near me.

"Same old rum bullshit," Harry grinned, as he reached for a cigarette. I offered him a light, but he waved me away. He pulled out his battered old Zippo instead and set himself up.

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," I replied, taking a deep drag of my own. I motioned to the cocktail waitress to set Harry up with something, along with round two for myself.

It was a rough few days for me and I just wanted to sit back and relax. Some days I wasn't sure what I was so jumped up about, but I could feel the muscles in my neck taut like piano wire. I reached back and rubbed the back of my neck with one hand. I winced at how tight it was. They say that stress can be a habit. They say stress can kill. Whoever "they" are. Jesus fucking Christ I just needed to get some decent rest. Things were going good as long as nothing fucked up. Well, I guess that's always the catch, isn't it.

It was at that moment, that she walked in. I felt every muscle in my body tense up, a fight-or-flight response all the way. I felt Harry's hand involuntarily on my shoulder, but I shoved it away gently.

"I'm cool," I said, without taking my eyes off of her, "I'm cool."

Harry looked at me doubtfully, but he knew better than to interfere.

I watched her slither across the open floor like the poisonous snake I knew her to be. But goddamn did she look gorgeous tonight. I wasn't the only one looking and she knew it. I could see her take it all in appreciatively as her rightful due. Fucking bitch. Harry was getting nervous, poor guy, he never knew what to do around her and she knew it. Made that poor man as uncomfortable as she could, smiling sweet as sugar the whole while. I had a theory as to why Harry jumped like a rabbit every time she showed up and an even better idea why he couldn't look me in the eye when she was around. I didn't blame him. She had that effect and he was just a poor dumb bastard. Like me.

She stood poised at the door, surveying her kingdom so to speak, until her gaze rested on me. She stared at me with those sultry green eyes and I stared right back at the bitch. I wanted her to know just how much I hated her. Her eyes widened at the intensity of my glare, and she smiled. How predictable. She started coming toward us. Somewhere outside my field of vision, I vaguely heard Harry's muttering voice.

"Don't do it, man, it's not worth it. Just let it go. "

Fuck that bitch. She ruined my life and I couldn't forget it. Here I was, trying to catch a little R&R in my favorite joint with my best bud, and that witch spawn somehow knew exactly where to find me. It wouldn't have surprised me one bit if she had called around to find out exactly where I was. As far as I knew, none of my friends would give her the time of day. But that isn't to say there's not a crack here and there. Nobody's perfect.