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June 12, 2001

chapter one of 
The Small Hard

The morning had passed like any other July morning in The Quarter.   Time oozed into the future, slowly and without purpose.   It was not yet noon and the mercury in my Barq's thermometer was nearing the ninety stripe.   The compressor on my air conditioner was giving out faster than my prostate and I was about to call it an early weekend at Longstreet Investigation when my secretary (and lone employee), Lizzy Caldwell, knocked on my office door.

"Elliott, there's a woman here to see you.   Says it's urgent."

 "The only urgency around here is my polyuria, Lizzy.   But send her in anyway."

I stood behind my desk, put on my summer blazer and straightened my tie.   Had I known what kind of woman was being led into my office, I would have combed my hair, brushed my teeth and jacked-off for good measure.

"Elliott Longstreet, I presume?"

©  2001 by the beastmaster