Hello Sunday

How about some light noir for your reading pleasure?

It was dark in the small cheap room where he lived. The blinds weren't closed, and a little light filtered in from the club across the street and down a bit. He could sleep with any of his lights on anyways, but he liked the blinds open 'cause sometimes he worked the snooze button, and many times it never came back to wake him up. The sun would work.

The dog kept barking outside though. It was starting to get on his nerves. He looked at the clock. 3:42. The damn dog had been barking for nearly three hours. He rubbed a grizzled spotted hand over his balding head. One hour he could take. Two hours of barking, was pushing the limits of anything resembling responsible dog ownership. He got up and went to the window. It was already open from the last four times he had yelled out of it, at that fucking dog.

Down the street the parking lot at the club was empty but for two cars. That's all. Even the goddamn club was closed. "FUCKING SHUT THE HELL UP!!" He yelled down three floors from his apartment to the yard below. The dog continued to bark. "Fuck." He said to himself. He threw a plaid work shirt over his wife-beater and put his boots on. If he was going to deal with the dog, it was going to have to be done right. He fished around in his closet for his Louisville slugger.