mademoiselle noir

she sat at her typewriter with a half-eaten bowl of warmed, salted carrots next to her. the ceramic dish heated the skin on her right arm while she leaned over the desk to read the page she had just finished. ruth...too biblical. rita...too mean. roxanne...too camp. rachel...again with the biblical! ronnie. yeah, maybe ronnie.

perhaps she should make R light a cigarrette at the end of her monologue. wait, did she ever put her gloves back on? she took them off when she went into mr. vanlandingham's office at the beginning of the scene.

gloves. gloves. i know i mentioned the gloves. there they are. oh, and all of the characters smoke. perhaps it's too cliche. too expected. R already talks fast and wears eccentric hats, if she smoked she'd end up like every other dame imprinted on celluloid. it's too "the maltese falcon". on the other hand, she is a broad. broad's smoke...hmmm...

she sat back down in her seat, scooped a tiny circular slice of carrot from the rim of the bowl. she licked her thumb and forefinger as she tapped the typewriter with her fingernails. she could kill someone for a cigarrette.

written by: lindsey anders carpenter