Friday Noir: Blood, Smoke and Whiskey
Those tastes seem to never leave your mouth.
Guess that’s a given after a certain amount of time in this life.
You get your jaw rapped.
You spark up another Lucky. It burns up in your nostrils
You wash your bacon and eggs and toast down with whatever bottle is left over from last night.
If one is left over, that is.
And you wait.
‘Cause he don’t quit.
You don’t quit neither.
Light another Lucky.
Make sure the gat stays cocked.
Blood. Smoke. Whiskey.
The Holy Trinity.
This story also appears in Rear Curtain, Issue 3.
© Mark V. Krajnak | JerseyStyle Photography | All rights Reserved 2013