The Streets are melancholy is an exiting piece of detective fiction !
It was a hot day in New Yorksburg, oppressively hot, so hot that all of the nineteen fifties people considered briefly wearing something other than suits and gangster hats. But they kept on wearing them anyway, it’s really important that you grasp that it’s hot. The fan in Dirk Doyle’s private eye office was straining to keep up with the hot, hot heat; it was somehow in the way of the light so it had a similar lighting effect as on a Ridley Scott film. Dirk was chewing on a cigar, or a toothpick, it was probably too hot to smoke. There was a knock on the door, from the other side of the door than Dirk so dirk couldn’t see who it was. It was an attractive woman, he saw this when she walked in, which she did sexily.
‘Are you Doyle?’ she asked.
‘Who wants to know?’
‘Me.’
‘And who are you?’
‘I’m Winona Kidman, I want you to follow my husband.’
‘If he’s anywhere near as sexy as you it looks like we have a case,’
So Dirk went to the woman’s husbands house, luckily he was getting in his car, which was green but that old kind of green that used to be in kitchens. Dirk followed him, there were some tense moments involving hiding his face behind a news-paper and standing next to a pole in the way that he became invisible to the followee. Soon Dirk followed until they arrived at a large warehouse, the kind for storing large boxes in. Dirk pulled out a cigarette and stuffed it into his pipe, he then loaded his revolver. Suddenly there was a knock on his car window. It was a bad guy, they fought after Dirk somehow got out of the car, Dirk won and extracted valuable information from the bad guy after some typically macho banter.
Wow! This is so good that we can only sell a limited amount of copies!! buy now! $19.99
No comments:
Post a Comment