April 24, 2018

FAREWELL, MY LOVELY - by Raymond Chandler

CLUES > CENTRE SMALL FIND DAY MARCH DUST STATUE INCH LOOSE
It was one of (1)_______ mixed blocks over on (2)_______ Avenue, the blocks that (3)_______ not yet all negro. (4)_______ had just come out (5)_______ a three-chair barbershop where (6)_______ agency thought a relief (7)_______ named Dimitrios Aleidis might (8)_______ working. It was a (9)_______ matter. His wife said (10)_______ was willing to spend (11)_______ little money to have (12)_______ come home.

I never (13)_______ him, but Mrs. Aleidis (14)_______ paid me any money (15)_______.

It was a warm (16)_______, almost the end of (17)_______, and I stood outside (18)_______ barber shop looking up (19)_______ the jutting neon sign (20)_______ a second floor dine (21)_______ dice emporium called Florian’s. (22)_______ man was looking up (23)_______ the sign too. He (24)_______ looking up at the (25)_______ windows with a sort (26)_______ ecstatic fixity of expression, (27)_______ a hunky immigrant catching (28)_______ first sight of the (29)_______ of Liberty. He was (30)_______ big man but not (31)_______ than six feet five (32)_______ tall and not wider (33)_______ a beer truck. He (34)_______ about ten feet away (35)_______ me. His arms hung (36)_______ at his aides and (37)_______ forgotten cigar smoked behind (38)_______ enormous fingers.

192 words

1 comment:

Rafa C. said...

It was one of the mixed blocks over on Central Avenue, the blocks that are not yet all negro. I had just come out of a three-chair barbershop where an agency thought a relief barber named Dimitrios Aleidis might be working. It was a small matter. His wife said she was willing to spend a little money to have him come home.
I never found him, but Mrs. Aleidis never paid me any money either.
It was a warm day, almost the end of March, and I stood outside the barber shop looking up at the jutting neon sign of a second floor dine and dice emporium called Florian’s. A man was looking up at the sign too. He was looking up at the dusty windows with a sort of ecstatic fixity of expression, like a hunky immigrant catching his first sight of the Statue of Liberty. He was a big man but not more than six feet five inches tall and not wider than a beer truck. He was about ten feet away from me. His arms hung loose at his aides and a forgotten cigar smoked behind his enormous fingers.