Film Noir, Spain

Film Noir, Spain

I drifted around...walking miles and miles on roads that didn't seem to care if they led anywhere, and they usually didn't. Big black clouds clenched like fists let loose with a one-two punch of pounding rain that soaked me right down to my calcium, but it couldn't wash her off me. Nothing could get that out. 

I ducked into a little dive and had a stiff one and then another. The bartender made small talk, small talk so small I didn't even hear it. He straightened his tie. That tie was probably the only thing straight in this joint. I ordered another.

Out there in the night, in the city, the rain kept coming.
I was tired, wet, sick, desperate, hungry. Hungry for what I wasn't so sure, but I knew I'd find out soon enough.
Soon enough? Yeah, well that turned out to be real soon, brother. Too soon...
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eugene francis pembroke

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