Noir Story

Wasn't the first time I'd come home busted up ... ... and it wouldn't be the last. It was usually someone else's fault, though. Not this time. Out of coffee. That was going to be a problem later. Now I had other problems. I couldn't help but rework the night in my head. Moment to moment. Angle to angle. Not often I get it handed to me like that. I didn't know half those ***, but they all knew me. I was slippin' up. Never should've wandered in there without casing it first. Never should've trusted her to take me. How could I be such a punk? All I could do now is lick my wounds with whiskey and take it easy til it came down. One way or another. I was paranoid. Every little noise was something I'd missed that was gonna get me. Every shadow was a reminder that I'd screwed up and the world wasn't one to forget. "Take a load off", I told myself. "Nothing more to do." "Not til morning, anyway." "You had at least that long." "Safe til the sun came up." There it was again. My mind going twitchy. I needed to relax. [Loud knocking] Maybe I didn't have til morning. Maybe I was wrong about that, too. God-damn night. I was surprised and I wasn't. Either way, the occasion deserved a proper greeting. Something wry and witty. Definitely not ... Didn't expect to see you.