Reposted with kind permission.
By Jay St John Knight.
This piece was intended as an extract from the beginning of a larger work of detective/noir fiction, potentially a novel, and was an exercise in trying to write something outside of my genre comfort zone. Feel free to let me know what you think in the comment box below.
The tungsten bulbs in the hallway are cold and the corridor sways with me as I zigzag off the walls. She keeps talking, asking inane questions about the neighbours and the local cafes and bars. I respond with grunts of affirmation, not listening, not caring. The key struggles to find its way into the lock. She laughs and I can smell the red wine and cigarettes on her breath. Key meets lock and we burst in. The apartment is dark save the fingers of amber that reach out through the blinds. I ask her if she wants…
View original post 613 more words