(Untitled)

[mynameismarlowe]

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon, mid June, with the sun shining and the ocean nothing more than a brilliant blue glare in the distance. I was wearing an offensively orange Aloha shirt, khaki Bermuda shorts and a pair of worn leather sandals. I looked like I belonged in the same travel brochure that I imagined once featured the Hub

Comments

[persian_sass]

"Not a bad look for you," Sasan said, appraising Marlowe's attire as he walked up from behind. Sure, the man might have looked like Orlando threw up on a lounge singer, but when everything around him resembled a Trader Vic's, it really wasn't so bad.

"Need a light or something?" he asked, glancing at the unlit cigarette.

[mynameismarlowe]

I nodded my greeting to Sasan and I plucked the cigarette out of my mouth before I said: "No. I'm saving it for a special occasion."

[persian_sass]

"Are you really expecting one to come along?" Sasan asked. Near as he could tell, they were few and far between, and he wasn't much of a smoker, but there had to be easier ways of avoiding temptation than sitting around with one in your mouth.

[mynameismarlowe]

It was a question that I had finally stopped asking myself about a week ago. I had a lot of practice ignoring it.

"Are you really expecting one not to?"

[persian_sass]

"Uh, pretty much, yeah," Sasan said flatly. "But maybe I'm just a cynic."