The Noir

It's raining again. Raining endlessly in this dank, shitty little city. Doesn't stop the fact that it smells rank, like rotting meat and sewage. The rain only helps make it smell worse, making me want to gag or find the nearest bottle of cheap malt liquor and down it in hopes that it'll stifle my senses to the point I just don't give a damn. At least this rain stops the loud noise of the neighbors below and across from me, though not by too much. Guess no matter what, this place is just putrid to me.

I can't stand this godforsaken place, but I don't got much of a choice. It's the result of a lack of business forcing me to move into something substandard in this little ghetto. What's my business? My business is sort of a peepin' Tom business. People pay me to spy on their spouses and see if they're up to no good. But given how bad the economy tanked what with the stock market crash, I guess people just don't have the free cash to spend on my services. Except the rich bastards up in the nicer parts of the city.

Hmm...something catches my eye. A pretty dame with a flapper on her head and short, blond curly locks. She's a pale one, but she has frost blue eyes and a strong, pouty pair of lips adorned with a deep rouge. Makes up for that pale complexion. She's got a figure to her that would make even the holiest man turn his head to sin. And that dress of hers! It's certainly a fine material, probably something bought by a rich fella.

She looks up at me and our eyes meet for just a brief moment. She smiles and I can tell that she wishes she was in my room with me, that she would drink the smells of my cheap liquor and sweat, find herself intoxicated on my pettiness. If anything, she probably would just want me to tell her I love her and that she would have a man to be there for her.

I could be that man if I weren't so, so...so me. I'm some sleazeball who likes to watch people commit the sin of adultery with strangers and get paid to do it so's I can tell their spouses what they're doing. I don't just do it for the money, I do it because it gives me some cheap thrills. Especially if I can get caught in my voyeuristic game. But I would lie to her and tell her that I am that man that she wants.

She looks away, blushing and smiling. I think that maybe she's probably some rich wife to some rich husband and wants to find herself lost in a sea of sin and lust. Maybe, just maybe I can be the one who gets caught with the wife this time. Maybe I can turn the tables on what I normally do. I peer my head out the window and beckon her to come up with a devil's grin. She wastes no time to put out her cigarette so she can head up to my room.

I don't bother changing into my clothes when she comes knocking on my door, greeting her in just my undergarments. She closes the door and runs into my arms, her skin so soft, almost unnaturally so. I kiss her lips and cop several lewd feels. She will be mine now and I don't even know her damn name. But I don't care this time, all that matters now is that I don't have to worry about liquoring myself up, that I don't have to smell those putrid smells, and that I can have some dame's touch one more time.