Tag: Noir

  • Jacked

    Jacked

    The man at the bar looks exhausted, but his hands twitch with that bitter kind of energy you see in psychos or speed freaks. As I look him over he catches my eyes- his are bloodshot, red-rimmed and bruised.   “What’dya think your starin’ at, huh?” he snaps, his shoulders hunching up beneath the tattered overcoat. “You lookin’ for a shoulder to cry on, sport?…