Literature
Bored?
The scene opens to a dingy hotel suite with two windows in the sitting area looking down onto the street. The walls are discolored, the pictures hanging on them are undistinguished landscapes. The furniture is worn. A couch squats between the two windows. The hardwood floors are dull and scratched. The windows are covered with very old venetian blinds. There are no lights on, but the sun sneaks in through the blinds, filling the room with a sort of bleak, dusty glow. On the couch sits a man who would look like a homeless bum except that he appears to be in peak physical condition, and although his clothing is worn, it fits him like a glove. He is tall and lean, and seems to be hard as a rock. He has black hair, pale skin and a five- or six-day growth of beard. He lacks only fangs to exactly resemble a cable-TV vampire. He is wearing a black suit, white shirt, black tie and black engineer’s boots. He is busy loading a thirty-shot clip into a Mini-14 that is topped off by a telescopic