Desert Waste: A Short-short Noir

Check out Private Eye Dinger’s latest caper at Motive Means Opportunity!


The phone call jingled me out of the first decent dream I’d had in months. Instead of grappling with Japs in the stinking, maggot infested mud of Okinawa I was twisting the sheets with the new redheaded doll that waited my table at Joella’s Diner last night. And this dish was a helluva lot tastier than Joella’s chicken-fried steak and gravy special. The phone rang again. Red took a powder, vanishing and leaving me twisted and sweating in the rack all by my lonesome. I wormed out of the damp sheets and sat on the side of the rollaway bed. Five forty-two according to the clock on the stand ticking away my life second by second. I grabbed the receiver and grunted, “This better be good.”


“Dinger, what’s your lazy ass still doing in bed at this ungodly hour of the morning?”

“I was nailing a beautiful redhead, if you…

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