blue night/perilous night

“I’m gonna tell you a story. The girl — the one you saw me with? She’s not the one on the tracks…"

So we’re in America somewhere, I dunno, upper Midwest maybe? Around 1957. Or 58? Not sure now that I concentrate. Now that I give it my full attention.

I’m a private eye of sorts, just starting out, making my little way down the road. And I am a female person last time I looked. And this is my story.

So this guy comes into my office one night. It doesn’t go well. Yes, it’s a blue night. Especially for me. And he leads me on a merry chase: we got a gruesome little situation on the railroad tracks; we got a love story, sort of, I guess. But it’s all messed up, confused, not clear in my head. And the whole thing is perilous, and, as I say, blue.

The style is, um, noir-ish? Could be. About ten characters all presented by me. And just to make it extra special, my story’s in poetic form! Yeah, it is! Doesn’t rhyme, though. And it’s got its own funky little meter… Frankly, I can’t promise you anything, but the whole thing’s pretty brief, and full of a lot of little puzzles and what-nots.

So please come. It’s a strange little ditty. But it’s a free show, so at least you’ll get your money’s worth.

Sincerely, Rory Cello

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