"She was tall. Really tall. At least 2 foot six in flats & with the kind of lips that would lock around a rusk & never let go."
"I staggered forward. She'd spiked my drink with sherbert & the next thing I knew I was running around like Tigger on a happy day."
"He rolled up, riding on the kind of chromium-plated wheels that told me he could buy and sell the whole playground ten times over..."
"I took one step forward. Behind me I heard the swish of a well aimed football and the next thing I knew, I was tasting bark chips..."
(Insomnia and night-time hours are the most appropriate time for writing Kid Noir though, because...)
"All the stuffed animals come out at night..."
As do the dolls, and that's far more worrisome!
ReplyDelete