Saturday, 3 March 2012

An excerpt from my untitled, probably never going to be finished 'detective' novel.

I sit in Denny's drinking coffee and eating a French toast breakfast.
The guy I'm watching is eating the same. But not drinking anything.
I pretend I am reading a book. Tao Lin's Richard Yates.
The man gets up and leaves.
I get up and follow him.
After walking for 3 minutes I get bored and go home.
My room mate asks me how the job went.
I told him good and then went to my room and lay on the floor.
My room mate comes into the room and says he made egg.
I ask if he flipped it.
He did not.
I don't want a non-flipped egg.

1 comment:

  1. I can only jump to the conclusion that it would turn out the room mate is a heroin addict and a kiddy fiddler and then the detective would have to shoot him in the face four times with a revolver whilst eating an egg sandwich in one hand. Yolk descends onto his chin. He grimaces. He forgot to flip it. He turns the revolver on himself before pulling the trigger.

    Fin.

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