Noir, part 4

“I don’t take orders from bricks,” I say.

“What?” she asks me.

“Nothing.  Are you ready to go?”

“Aren’t you gonna do something about that window?”

“No.”

“What if it rains?”

“Then I’ll take a shower.”

“What if a bird flies in?  What then?”

“Lunch.”

“Funny.”

“Not for the bird.”

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Noir, part 2

The window behind me shatters, and I duck, narrowly avoiding a pavement stone.

Third time this month.  I’m not surprised.  With my phone disconnected, it’s the second best way to send me a message.

The dame didn’t react quickly enough, though.  Now she’s got a blackeye.

“Duck,” I say, smiling.

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