New Jersey Noir (2011)
“The walls were damp, and low-tide stink mixed with turpentine and oils. It was late on a Saturday night in early March. They drank beer and passed a joint. Len spoke of insomnia, a recent murder out on Money Island, and a buck he’d seen with pitch-black antlers. Marty told about a huge snake on the outside of the studio window and then showed Len his most recent paintings—local landscapes and a series of figures called Haunted High School.
“That chick looks dead,” said Len, pointing at a canvas... with a pale girl in a cheerleading outfit, smoking a cigarette. In the background loomed an abandoned factory, busted glass and crumbling brick. A smokestack.
“She’s haunted,” said Marty. “I gotta sell a couple of these in the next gallery show in Milville on Third Friday. I need enough to fix the roof. We’re fuckin’ broke.”
“I heard there was a guy in a van buying glass eels before daybreak in the parking lot behind the burned-out diner on Jones Island Road,” said Len.MoreLess
“That chick looks dead,” said Len, pointing at a canvas... with a pale girl in a cheerleading outfit, smoking a cigarette. In the background loomed an abandoned factory, busted glass and crumbling brick. A smokestack.
“She’s haunted,” said Marty. “I gotta sell a couple of these in the next gallery show in Milville on Third Friday. I need enough to fix the roof. We’re fuckin’ broke.”
“I heard there was a guy in a van buying glass eels before daybreak in the parking lot behind the burned-out diner on Jones Island Road,” said Len.MoreLess
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