This is a short noir story.
typical stuff i write out of empty-headedness, annoyance and wanting to blow off some steam.

it IS furry, eventhough it is not well described, just imagine lackadaise cats or something and you'll get the idea.

Story contains only mild violence and no sex for once.
enjoy.


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The Note

I can hardly feel my tongue anymore, but it does not matter, anything to make these boring small hours pass, I wave for the tender to fill my glass once more, he looks at me in a tired way but fills up none the less, I grab the glass with my bandaged left hand, something catches my eye on my very own hand, the blood.
Almost shining in the dim, smoky light, it shimmers through the clean white bandage, I ignore it and turn my attention to the rest of the room by turning around a little on the hard but fairly comfortable stool, the brown clear liquid numbs me more as I empty the small glass into my mouth, it stopped tasting anything an hour or so ago, but the feeling of faint warmth in my throat is soothing enough.
The room is just as before, empty, but that does not disturb me, the skinny dirty blonde cat by the piano just keeps clinking away at the keys as the at least fairly attractive white kitten on the high stool on the stage lets the whole smoky room know about her troublesome life, unhappy loves and general misery in her slow singing to accompany the piano.
I look to the man besides me, he is smoking like a chimney but it does not trouble me, I used to do that too, back when I had nothing to live for, good for me that I stopped, else I would not be here right now, in this hellhole, waiting the small hours away.
I take my eyes off him before he notices me, I do not want to disturb his slow killing of his own lungs, before I do, I notice the tender is talking to someone over by the far-end of the counter, someone must have come in newly, I did not even notice the door.
Typical me, I am getting a bit too drunk for this, but then again, I always did all of my work best in this state of mind anyway.
Finally the person over by the far-end moves so I can get a careful look at what seems to be a lady, rather than the usual staggering drunk that comes in at this hour.
It strikes me like a revolver round to my temple, brown hair, neat fur pattern, cute but not too much held back, she moves with a bit of uncertainty but at the same time with burning determination.
I slowly shuffle around in my pocket to place a fiver on the counter before sliding off the stool to get up, my hand thumps with pain as I grip the crumpled bill but the tender seems pleased.
I hear my own voice telling him to keep the change and he seems even more brightened up by it, he quickly offers me a smoke and I take it without question, not lighting it and not putting it in my mouth, I raise my bandaged hand to thank him again and then I move off into the smoke.
The white kitten gets off her stool up on the stage and walks over to the piano man, unendingly howling about sorrow and past things, I cannot help but to smile for myself, if I had those looks and that voice, I probably would be standing there as well.
I follow the brown-haired lady with a certain slow sway in my steps and as she just simply sits down by a lone round table at the dark reach of the room, I hesitate only a second before sitting down across the table to her, even if she is not the one sent for me, I might get lucky and have a nice peaceful conversation for once.
She takes her neat little hat off and shakes her head before looking to me with her big brown eyes, her cute face a bit twisted into a certain kind of wondering, she asks me my name and I answer slowly, it might not be beautiful, but it is me.
She smiles sweeter than an angel and leans with both her elbows on the table, still wearing her heavy black coat, she asks me for my smoke and I find myself looking confused for a second, she just keeps smiling and points to my bandaged hand where I hold the unlit cigarette in a cramp-like hold.
I just nod slowly and holds it forth, she takes it and then asks for fire, but before she even asked, I dug out my old lighter from the bowels of my own coat, a lady should not have to waste all her words on trivial things such as fire.
I light the cigarette for her as she holds it lazily between her soft lips, her red lipstick shining dully in the few lights that penetrate the thick smoke of the bar.
As I pull back, she does so too but not before lighting the old soggy candle on the table with the glowing end of the deadly tobacco stick that now rests between her fingers rather than her soft lips.
I feel myself swallow shortly and then ask her name, she answers without delay or question, it almost sounds believable, I trust her, I mostly do, I have such a deadly weak spot for cute girls.
She lets me know she is thirsty and I nod, I have not had a drink for a few minutes myself, but I am unsure what to do seeing that I already left my spot at the bar, the tender seemed rather keen on befriending me after the generous tip though, so gaining his attention will be easy.
I get up and take a simple order from her before walking over to the bar.
That is when I see them, the short guy, the tall guy, they could not look more malplaced and stupid, they have to be the ones I was asked to wait for, to check up on, to get the note from, that blasted note, he kept nagging about it for two full hours as he dug the twenty-eight calibre bullets out of my back.
I just have to do it, I just have to get that note.
I look to my hand and sigh softly before putting one hand into my pocket, my right one, where I keep my shooter, a crude place perhaps, easy to find and easy to spot, but very convenient if you need to reach your gun fast.
I look to the tender again and order two more glasses, different liquids this time, easier for me, stronger for her, as she wanted it, peculiar girl.
I throw a glance to the tall and the short as I take the filled glasses away from the counter with only my bandaged hand, the other one holding the butt of my revolver in a cramp inside my pocket, it is like I am stone cold sober right now, the only thing that shows different is my distant gaze and my wobbly walking.
I sit back down and lug the two glasses forth while telling her whatever brand and all that unimportant stuff the tender suddenly went on about.
She nods slowly while sucking on the deathstick, her big brown eyes digging right into mine, rumbling around in my brain and causing me shivers.
I look away from her, a single drop of sweat breaks on my forehead, I can feel my right ear twitch, it makes my whole head tremble, I speak to her, sudden and unexpected about the note.
I tell her everything, the doctor, that is what he likes being called, he desires just a simple piece of paper, apparently just with words on it.
She nods and smiles her angel’s smile before putting the short butt of the cigarette out in the bulging mountain of dead smokes on the tray on the small table.
I look to her in some kind of astonishment, she nodded?
She understands me, she must have picked this up from someone, I feel my heart jump, I do not dare shift gaze from her to the tall guy and the short guy anymore.
I do not want to shoot her, I do not want to have to end such a pretty beings life over something like this.
My doubts gnaw at me as she suddenly gets up, very slowly, gracefully, keeping her eyes on me like I keep my eyes on her, she reaches into her coat and I can hear the clicking of a button even though the kitten keeps on humming her sensual tones from the stage, I can hear the brown-haired lady pull her weapon and she nods to me and then motions her pretty head towards the short and the tall.
I think I understand so I nod back and rise slowly.
A quick ruffling of clothing and the elegant cocking of a hammer, a shot thunders and before anyone within the smoky bar can even begin to imagine what just happened, I feel my own hand tugging wildly at my revolver to get it out of my pocket.
I aim, I tremble even though my mind is steady and eventually I fire, the shot hits its mark just fine and as the second man goes down, the brown-haired lady with the angel’s face is already there to ruffle through his pockets just as she did with the one she shot.
I am marvelled by being alive, I even crack a faint smile before rushing after the beautiful girl to get out of the bar.
The street is dark and cold, just as I left it, she swings around a corner while throwing a glance back at me, is she trying to lose me or is she seeing that I keep up?
I take no time to wonder and follow her into the alleyway, she soon stops just a few meters in and turns to face me, sweet relief for my tired eyes.
She quickly waves a small piece of paper in front of me and quickly talks about delivering it to the right people with her wondrous voice.
I do my best in not getting lost in her appearance and voice again and shake my head slowly, I let her know that the note must go to the doctor, as he likes being called.
She suddenly gets a very mischievous look and steps closer to me, my gun-hand shivers and I do my best not to raise it.
She tells me to trust her and suddenly flings me up against the wall, I can feel her soft lips against mine and suddenly her warm and wet tongue, I curse in my head that I can hardly feel my tongue anymore.