Thursday, June 26, 2008

P:PI

by Sonja Nitschke


His lips are carved in an overconfident smirk that goes nicely with his felt hat. If he could open his mouth, he'd say words like "dames" and smoke a cigarette in the dark.

He's on a case, but can't follow the trail.

It'd be a cinch if he could extricate himself from his own strings.

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