She didn't know how she got in this deep, but there she was, standing head to head with the barrel of a gat and no way out. Sure she'd been stuck behind the eight-ball before, stammering for the best excuse until she was back home in her cozy little bed without so much as a scratch, but this was different. She felt it in her gut. It was curtains for her, and the icy fingers of panic started to creep up her throat, making her choke on the pleas for mercy that threatened to escape.

What was the point though? Was there even one? She could beg and cry and hope to pull on the heartstrings of this lug, but even that was a long shot. There was a good chance he was hired, she couldn't place his mug anyway, and that meant this wasn't just some dope runner she crossed without knowing it, looking to make good. The long and short of it was that she was set up, the lay so well thought-out that she never saw it coming, nor would the bulls be able to trace it back to the real dame behind it. The twist was that she didn't know from nothing either way, not really. It wasn't her crime and she had no real part in it. She only knew who put her in the spot and painted her hands red.

"Look, I don't got any-" she started, and the bruno just waved the gat in her face, quick to bring the mouth flush to her forehead. Her tears felt hot against her face in contrast to the cold steel.

"You'll shut your yapper if you know what's good!"

Part of her wishes he'd just do it already - pull the trigger and put her into that deep sleep she never had a reason to mull over until this very moment. She can't stand that she's been played, and she's convinced that the shame of it might just be worse than the feel of a bullet between the peepers. But the other part is curious, and she's got a right to be, wondering what steps it took to get her where she was, and why she ended up the dupe.

She was sure she'd never get smart though, as the harsh click of the hammer hit her straight in the ears.


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haha, first, I realize this has nothing to do with filmpunk's photo directly, BUT, the noir feel of it inspired me to finally write up this little intro to a noir-y type narrative. so that's that.

second, in my head, the story is definitely not over. i'm just not sure where to go with it. maybe I've just watched Brick too many times in the last few days, but I'd like to think of this as an intro to a story, and the next step would be taking us back to 'where it began' or something. or not! maybe she can talk her way out of this, or some gee can come to her rescue.

you decide!