[Sodium_noir] Neon City [Friday]

[Jennie Teakle]

Neon City
Friday 10: 20 am

Mrs Harrington-Smythe, Lloyd
Elderly Socialite, Chauffeur


Downtown Neon City and the day's business is kicking into high gear.   
It is a downtrodden and down market locale but it is seethes with  
energy. Small businesses and 'mom n pop' stores jostling alongside  
ethnic groceries and cafes, daytime Neon city bustles and thrives. It  
ain't high tone, but it is vivid with noisy life.

At a busy downtown intersection, standing out like a bishop in a  
sports bar, a glossy black, chauffeur-driven Lincoln waits beside  
Neon City's usual collection of dented Hondas, beaten up Fords and  
used Chevy pickups. Lloyd, Mrs Harrington-Smythe's driver, watches  
the traffic impassively, waiting to head straight through the grubby,  
cluttered streets, on the way back Uptown to the wide, tree-lined  
avenues of wealthy suburbia, then further on up Nob Hill and finally  
into the sweeping embrace of the Harrington Residence's private  
drive. As the lights change and Lloyd stirs into action there is a  
light tap on the glass partition. Lloyd supresses a sigh, presses the  
intercom button.

"Lloyd? Take a right here." Lloyd thinks Mrs Harrington-Smythe sounds  
like Katherine Hepburn. She has a dry-toned, Mayflower voice and even  
with a head cold, the old dame manages to sound like American  
royalty. Take a right? Lloyd is too professional to roll his eyes. He  
slides the Lincoln across two lanes of traffic, superbly ignoring the  
sudden blaring symphony of horns and makes a right turn into Market  
Street.

"Where to, Mrs Harrington?" asks Lloyd levelly.

"Oh, home. Of course," replies Eva Harrington. "Just a little detour  
down Memory Lane on the way."



		
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