Northwest Noir
Friday, 13 March 2009 01:01
The puddled blood grew diluted as raindrops splashed lightly. Detective Jorenz Stark squatted behind yellow tape imagining the horizontal flesh before him as it might have been half a day ago. Evidence of an evening's preparations, lipstick, rouge, mascara; ghastly now, designed then for what purpose, Stark wondered. "On again I go," he thought. “Another journey backwards into a life struck dead.”