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A Literary Hitman

The less valuable but nonetheless edible parts of a carcass. She wakes up slowly. The fragments of the dream that she can recall with ease she tries to fit together, all the while knowing that the picture will never be complete. The pain is in the small of her back and in the space around her liver. One day, she thinks, it’s all going to come down in a shower of stiff rain, rock and roll and dreadful shimmer. She’ll walk out, be absorbed by the storm, screaming, and no-one will hear. A sense of twilight?

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A Literary Hitman | lithitman.wordpress.com Reviews

<META> DESCRIPTION

The less valuable but nonetheless edible parts of a carcass. She wakes up slowly. The fragments of the dream that she can recall with ease she tries to fit together, all the while knowing that the picture will never be complete. The pain is in the small of her back and in the space around her liver. One day, she thinks, it’s all going to come down in a shower of stiff rain, rock and roll and dreadful shimmer. She’ll walk out, be absorbed by the storm, screaming, and no-one will hear. A sense of twilight?

<META> KEYWORDS

1 a literary hitman

2 i of fish

3 you of pork

4 3 comments

5 holland park

6 what

7 leave a comment

8 comedy

9 how many glasses

10 daedalus

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a literary hitman,i of fish,you of pork,3 comments,holland park,what,leave a comment,comedy,how many glasses,daedalus,1 comment,a chill,dear arabella,how is arcadia,love,gangster stories,original fiction,everything,to be blessed,three disgraces,laquo;

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A Literary Hitman | lithitman.wordpress.com Reviews

https://lithitman.wordpress.com

The less valuable but nonetheless edible parts of a carcass. She wakes up slowly. The fragments of the dream that she can recall with ease she tries to fit together, all the while knowing that the picture will never be complete. The pain is in the small of her back and in the space around her liver. One day, she thinks, it’s all going to come down in a shower of stiff rain, rock and roll and dreadful shimmer. She’ll walk out, be absorbed by the storm, screaming, and no-one will hear. A sense of twilight?

INTERNAL PAGES

lithitman.wordpress.com

1

A chill | A Literary Hitman

https://lithitman.wordpress.com/2006/11/12/a-chill

A mayfly in the Regent Palace Hotel. The dream has no beginning or end and I always wake up at the same time: just before the door opens and the tall man is about to enter the room. The experience never lasts beyond this point. There is no continuation. And though I have never heard that scream I will always remember it. I will never know why those people are in that damnable and accursed place. I will never hear their names in anything but hellish tongues; will never know why the bed is strewn with ...

2

To be blessed | A Literary Hitman

https://lithitman.wordpress.com/2006/11/08/to-be-blessed

A mayfly in the Regent Palace Hotel. Three bar scenes, 2am lounge scenarios, backstage kitchen sink sets. Imported stench from the ghettos in perfumed candle or aerosol formats. A few blacks, spics, bubbles and micks around the place, strategically situated on bar-stools and banquettes, just to brighten up the setting and muddy the narrative, for the paradox that’s in it. 8220;You know that stumbling feeling? WHODO, HOODOO AND VOODOO. And they do and we do and you do. He watches their shapes in the shado...

3

Daedalus | A Literary Hitman

https://lithitman.wordpress.com/2006/11/12/daedalus

In half sleep I see the streetlamps on Constitution Hill glisten inside their frosted halos. I watch them swing softly in the crosswinds that waft the spirit of the sea up through the town and sweep the mysteries of heather and furze down from the low-lying hills. I breathe the rimy evening air, moist with soft rain, and feel the purchase of my key in the old lock, the softness of the rugs beneath my feet as I enter the warm stillness of home. 8220;My mother is French,” he says. 8221; I ask. 8220;No,&#82...

4

A mayfly in the Regent Palace Hotel | A Literary Hitman

https://lithitman.wordpress.com/2006/11/09/a-mayfly-in-the-regent-palace-hotel

A mayfly in the Regent Palace Hotel. I recall them all in every detail but I can’t remember how I got the scar. Is it simply this, that because I’m a writer and live in my own head the narrative of my off-page life is, of necessity, strange and yet, somehow legitimate? Is and always has been the most central and important of human concepts. I’m never sure that what I experience actually ever happens and I can’t remember how I got the scar. A prison for his seed? He’s always been a bachelor on the i...

5

The less valuable but nonetheless edible parts of a carcass | A Literary Hitman

https://lithitman.wordpress.com/2007/01/26/the-less-valuable-but-nonetheless-edible-parts-of-a-carcass

The less valuable but nonetheless edible parts of a carcass. She wakes up slowly. The fragments of the dream that she can recall with ease she tries to fit together, all the while knowing that the picture will never be complete. The pain is in the small of her back and in the space around her liver. One day, she thinks, it’s all going to come down in a shower of stiff rain, rock and roll and dreadful shimmer. She’ll walk out, be absorbed by the storm, screaming, and no-one will hear. Feed for this Entry.

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thehallspace.wordpress.com

Part 3: Enter the Detective | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/03/09/part-3-enter-the-detective

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. March 9, 2006. Part 3: Enter the Detective. Filed under: Cincinnati Project. Mason & Clay. 8212; thehallspace @ 1:42 am. Her consciousness returned to her like a record slowly speeding up to an unusual melody. She could tell what time it was by the way Mitch answered the phone. His voice still hoarse from sleep it better be good for 4 in the morning. Cleveland answered, Nah man, we called you first thing. We been sitting here since. Who you calling? Mason answered from the other si...

thehallspace.wordpress.com

Jesse Townes | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/06/30/jesse-townes

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. June 30, 2006. Filed under: Beverley Mitchel. 8212; thehallspace @ 12:08 am. He awoke in a moment of confused panic, not knowing where he was. The sun was up and cut through the blinds into his eyes. He covered his face with his hand for a moment and noticed his left arm was inhibited by a body. Jesse looked over at the woman in bed with him and tried to remember her name. Was it Kim? She said Man, I was wasted. She walked towards the bathroom that was to the left of the bed&#4...

thehallspace.wordpress.com

Ch 2: Beverly Mitchell | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/04/02/ch-2-beverly-mitchell

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. April 2, 2006. Ch 2: Beverly Mitchell. Filed under: Cincinnati Project. 8212; thehallspace @ 10:26 pm. Beverly Mitchell ran her fingers through her micro-braided hair before hitting the switch to make the alarm stop. She fumbled for her radio remote that was lost in her blanket. She found it and switched from the radio to the CD. She stood as the player lit up with the number of tracks before playing track one. She was out of her door by 5:30 for the 5:45 metro bus that came down o...

thehallspace.wordpress.com

The First | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/10/02/the-first

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. October 2, 2006. Filed under: Crime Fiction. 8212; thehallspace @ 12:38 am. The first woman he ever stalked was an instinct. He was bored and wandering the isles of a Wal-Mart that was almost forty five minutes from his home. He was looking at boxers and trying to find the ones with the snap button on the front when she walked past him the first time. He only saw her from the back and thought her a little too thin, and her cheeks looked fat. Her skin was a butterscotch color. He pa...

thehallspace.wordpress.com

Random Fiction: Queen Oya | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/07/06/random-fiction-oya

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. July 6, 2006. Random Fiction: Queen Oya. 8212; thehallspace @ 11:26 pm. Her mind was abuzz with the rumblings of the ancestors. Their souls speaking to hers in a chorus of advice and caution in the situation. She quieted her mind without closing her eyes. She kept her gaze on the shape that was now taking form as it drew nearer. It was moving fast enough to create a boom as the air behind it slammed closed like thunder. He turned to recover just as she banged into him on the way do...

thehallspace.wordpress.com

Where am I? | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/07/31/where-am-i

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. July 31, 2006. 8212; thehallspace @ 3:42 pm. If I am not here then I am probably at one of these fine locations:. My Main Page The Hallboy Hideaway Blog. Monthly updated this is where I put my best foot forward and try to blog the meaningful stuff in my life. Created by my girl Nicole it is a work in progress but I really like what I post over there. My college journal: The Myspace Hub 1.1. My Hub for Entertainment: The Blogspot Hub 2.1. My Field Map: The Frappr Map Hub 4.1. This i...

thehallspace.wordpress.com

Birth | The Hallspace Hub 3.1

https://thehallspace.wordpress.com/2006/05/08/birth

The Hallspace Hub 3.1. May 8, 2006. 8212; thehallspace @ 3:58 pm. A rush sound like water in a narrow channel and a baby cries. Life meets air for the first time. Lungs suck in and cough out sound in short novice bursts. A doctor in mask and bonnet comes into focus in the sterile environment. 8220;She seems healthy.” the doctor says. He passes the gurgling baby to the nurse. As he turns his back the black nurse takes the baby and drops it into the trash. Leave a Comment ». Feed for comments on this post.

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A Literary Hitman

The less valuable but nonetheless edible parts of a carcass. She wakes up slowly. The fragments of the dream that she can recall with ease she tries to fit together, all the while knowing that the picture will never be complete. The pain is in the small of her back and in the space around her liver. One day, she thinks, it’s all going to come down in a shower of stiff rain, rock and roll and dreadful shimmer. She’ll walk out, be absorbed by the storm, screaming, and no-one will hear. A sense of twilight?

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