Her teeth had the nice shiny look that comes from standing all night in a glass of solution. - Raymond Chandler

I walked to the windows and pulled the shades up and opened the windows wide. The night air came drifting in with a kind of stale sweetness that still remembered automobile exhausts and the streets of the city. I reached for my drink and drank it slowly. The apartment house door closed itself down below me. Steps tinkled on the quiet sidewalk. A car started up not far away. It rushed off into the night with a rough clashing of gears. I went back to the bed and looked down at it. The imprint of her head was still in the pillow, of her small corrupt body still on the sheets. I put my empty glass down and tore the bed to pieces savagely.

Some days I feel like playing it smooth. Some days I feel like playing it like a waffle iron.

I knew one thing: as soon as anyone said you didn’t need a gun, you’d better take one along that worked.