Noir

Crimson splatters line the walls, crime scene tape girds the door. Shattered glass, a single lily, and pristine white shagpile carpet grace the floors.

He lifts the needle, abruptly silencing the Shostakovitch piano concerto.

Tipping back his trilby, he scratches his head. Who still uses a record player?

Image credit: SouthernRebel/pixabay

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22 thoughts on “Noir

  1. Loved the scenery you have set here, Asha. And I do love me some Shostakovich. But seems like the detective might not be the sharpest tool in the shed.

    • Thanks, Varad. I’m sadly less enamoured of Shostakovich, but he did write some lilting piano concertos. I don’t know about that detective. He may hit onto something important about the person who lives there, that could eventually lead to the solving of this mystery. I’m not giving up on him just yet.

    • Hooray for new words! As someone who used to collect new words as a kid, I’m always thrilled when people learn new words. Shagpiles were the bane of every 1970s household I knew. My poor mother (who was the one who vacuumed), loathed the long carpet fibres.

      And I’m an enormous sucker for a crime scene.

  2. I was about to write, “How very noir!” — and then I reread the title. 🙂 I’m picturing this almost like a black and white, with just that splash of color. Personally, I think there’s something supernatural going on here… 🙂

    • Thanks, Melony! I was going to be boring and say they put down plastic sheeting, but I’m leaning towards Christine’s suggestion of supernatural intervention now!

  3. I love the irony of him asking the question about the record player as he moves a fedora…lol…who wears those? 🙂 also love shagpile carpet.
    You did a fantastic job making this sound like a poem, but the sentences flow like prose.

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