( Read at your own risk. )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: OC- -hard boiled detective fiction
Word Count: 404

Two – The Client

( Read at own risk. )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: OC / Hard-boiled
Word Count: 527

The flatfoot was still waiting for me to continue. I figured there was no real harm in letting the cat out of the bag. ( Read at own risk. )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: OC Hard-Boiled/Noir
Word Count: 472

( You know the deal...read at own risk )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: OC Hard-Boiled/Noir
Word Count: 360

Remember how I mentioned how many pounds of pressure it takes to break a knee? Well, the same goes for feet and toes. <lj-cut text="Read at own risk>:> Typically 7-15 pounds of pressure are all it takes, and when the goon who has you tied up uses a 10 pound sledgehammer…yeah, it’s pleasant. I’m not going to be dancing any time soon, I can tell you that much. Just as well. My jive and jitterbug were nothing to write home about. The one thing I really liked about Mercy was the fact that you could still smoke in your room if you wanted to. Now I would have, but the fact that my ribs were taped with enough gauze to re-wrap Tutankhamun kinda puts a damper on that urge. I was starting to itch for it too, even above the morphine, and you know that’s not a good sign. I decided, looking at the cop patiently waiting for me to tell him how I got there, that when he was gone and that night nurse was asleep at her station, I’d try a few puffs to see if I could do it. So there I am, forearms wrapped, elbows wrapped, head wrapped, right leg in an elevated sling, left foot in stirrups, ribs wrapped, trying to think of where to begin. He had started tapping the end of his pen on the note pad he was holding, the little percussive noises seeming to sound louder and louder. He had cocked his head too, like a puppy does when looking for a treat of some kind, and I almost snickered. Almost. I cleared my throat and his pen stopped instantly. “Can I have some water?” I asked. He wordlessly handed over a small paper cup filled with lukewarm salty water. Apparently doctors were adding torture to their list of skills, along with confinement and strangulation. I thought I wouldn’t be able to breathe for much longer, my ribs were cinched so tight. I wet my whistle with the water and gingerly placed it on the tray-table near the bed. The flatfoot settled back in his chair again, waiting for me to get down to it. “Understand,” I said, “that my role on all of this was never intended to be so central. I mean I’m just a P.I. I’m an ex-Paratroop turned gumshoe and I wasn’t looking for any trouble.” The flatfoot was writing furiously now, desperately trying to keep up and I knew I should slow down, and seeing as I was having trouble breathing through the damned gauze on my ribs, I knew it wasn’t going to be an issue. I paused for breath and when I did, the flatfoot looked up at me again.</lj-cut> Muse: Parker Lane Fandom: OC/Hard-Boiled - Noir Word Count: 451

I’m currently laid up in Mercy Hospital. Not in good shape, to say the least. Not that I was in good shape before, but now I’m slightly worse. Probably best to start at the top and work our way down on this one. It’ll be easier to keep track of. Eventually we’ll be able to see how all of them got where they are, I hope.

( Musings on the nature of pain... )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: hard-boiled
Word Count: 536

Prompt Set #17 - 6

( Prologue continued... )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: Original Fiction / Hard-Boiled
Word Count: 264

- 6.01.08 - PROMPT SET # 39 - 6

Someone once asked me what I remember. That's kind of a loaded question. What I remember and what actually happened ain't always been the same.

( What I remember... )

Muse: Parker Lane
Fandom: Original Character / Hard-Boiled
Word Count: 334