Fragments of Noir

Tuesday, 1 October 2024

She caught up her purse and she ran, ran as if she raced with Death, and as if Death were the fleeter of foot.

Dorothy B. Hughes

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KappaNeuro

fragments of noir: 'It was one of those hot dry Santa Annas that come down thru the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge. ............ Red Wind- Raymond Chandler

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