Snippet Sunday – Hard-Boiled/Noir WIP – January 17, 2016
Snippet Sunday is a Facebook group for writers I’ve been privileged enough to have been accepted into.
From the group guidelines; “Welcome to Snippet Sunday, where writers come together to share a few sentences of their current project–whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. Intended to hook readers, gather feedback and build an author’s fan base, Snippet Sunday is the FB group that does all three.”
This week’s snippet picks up right where last week’s left off…
Marisa has just planted a big kiss on Jake, right in front of her potentially unstable ex. The ex, Jed, is watching them from the back of the bar. The scene continues as Jed’s drinking buddy (guy in a blue Hawaiian shirt) makes a move…
I glanced at the back corner in time to see the guy in the aloha shirt getting to his feet. He looked to Jed.
So did I.
Jed hadn’t budged from his position holding up that back wall. He continued to stare at Marisa and me as his friend joined him by the phone.
A slice of reddish yellow light glinted off the metal cover of the pay phone, reminding me to consider what that call he’d placed might mean. I was willing to bet he didn’t call his mom to see if she needed him to pick up a quart of milk on his way home.
A ballad came up next. The head count on the dance floor thinned out as a few couples headed toward the booths for a beer and a breather. The rest stayed to sway and make eyes at each other while Nina Simone sang the blues.
Marisa sent a nasty glare Jed’s way, then grabbed my hand.
“Come on, tiger,” she said, “let’s give the bastard something to stare at.”
She pulled me toward the dance floor before I could suggest leaving.
One of the customers I’d seen Beau talking with earlier, a weathered ginger with a long ponytail and a sad smile, intercepted us on our way there. She was about my height, with a stout but strong build that filled out the black shirt, black jeans combo she had on.
She nodded a greeting at Marisa, then turned her attention to me.
Marisa tried to move around her. The other woman didn’t give way.
“Excuse us,” said Marisa.
The woman ignored her and eyeballed me, head to shoulders, on down to my feet, then back up to the top. She half-opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, then looked toward Jed, closed her mouth, and stepped aside. Her sad smile got several degrees sadder.
I couldn’t get past the feeling that I’d just been measured for a coffin.
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