| Sin City PART I: A Dame to Kill For "I feel so cold on hookers and gin. This mess we�re in."-Sean Atkins, Hookers and Gin Freddy bangs beats like the clackclackclack of my typewriter. My hand shakes with arthritic tremors along the barrel of my cigarette. I'm getting too old for this. The gray grit pelts the darkblacknoir of my trench coat. My hand shakes from drizzle flowing down the edge of my fedora. It's getting too cold for this. The masked moon shoots like the clickclickclick of my camera. My hand shakes with the recoil of the shutter as it freezes them. I'm getting chump change for this. The woman whimpers like the damedamedame of my case. My hand shakes with arthritic tremors along the barrel of my gun. I'm getting too old for this. Freddy hits her like the punchdrunkpalooka raging inside. My hand shakes with arm aiming steady at his bulk. It's getting too cold for this. The flash fire and the bangbangbang of my gun. My hand shakes the smoke curl rising from the back of his head. I shoot him again and again until I get it right. |