NOIR, Chapter 4

Extroverted It was a typical morning. I defied the alarm clock several times, before slowly removing my body from the twin bed in my bedroom to the couch in my living room. There, on the couch, I sprawled out and slept for a few more hours. A knock at the door. Great. I open the door and there's my little sister, Mercedes. She stands in the hall with a look of sarcasm, as usual, and in uniform. Yeah, she's fuzz. A copper. A pain. "Typical," she says as she waltzes in and takes her hat off, "Would it kill you to get a job? And attempt to do something with your life?" "I could say the same of you," I reply, "You think because you gotta badge and uniform that means you're a success?" "Tough love," she starts, "So, what have you been up to, Johnny?" She takes a seat on the couch, placing her hat on the coffee table. "Nothing worth mentioning." "Staying out of trouble?" "Define trouble .&