In honor of author Richard Stark, reader Joe Barrett, and their correct rendering of chaise longue in the audiobook version of Stark's novel Butcher's Moon, here's a story I wrote a few year
|Rick Ollerman enjoys a|
moment of nail-biting
suspense. Photos by
Peter Rozovsky for
ere are more photos from Sunday's Noir at the Bar in New York along with the other story I read there. I've included a face from earlier in the day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that would not have been out of place at the reading. (See if you can spot the interloper.) See my other story and the first batch of photos on the previous post here at Detectives Beyond Borders
The Longue Goodbye
I pushed open the door to the pool deck and inhaled chlorine and death. Fen slumped in the chase lounge. He looked smaller and sicker than he had when I'd seen him three days before.
|Nick Kolakowski, Suzanne Solomon.|
|Hellenistic dramatic mask|
Spit and blood caked around his broken mouth, and for a moment I thought he was dead. "Got anything to tell me, Fen?" I knelt by the chair.
His lips cracked when he tried to talk, and I knew Fen was more than halfway to where he was going. I leaned closer.
"It's chaise longue, not chase lounge, you illiterate fuck," he said. "It means long chair."
He died happy.
— Peter Rozovsky
© Peter Rozovsky 2016
|Albert Tucher, Jen Conley, Suzanne Solomon, Terrence McCauley|
Labels: Albert Tucher, flash fiction, Jeff Markowitz, Jen Conley, Nick Kolakowski, Noir at the Bar, photography, Richard Stark, Rick Ollerman, Suzanne Solomon, Terrence McCauley