Musings and Writing of GG Alexander

Solarpunk Noir 1

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21.20, summer evening. It was June 13th. I was downing my favourite poison at the Saint’s Bar, one of the quieter joints in the anointed Sun City. Older joint. I was the only one there, bar Anita, who was polishing glasses and leaving me be.

Something in the air had whispered to me that that wasn’t going to be a good night – buzzes of foreboding creeping cross my brain – but I was determined to ignore that part of me and slug it down with the rest.

Still, I didn’t look up when the door opened, but I wasn’t surprised, neither. Only straightened when she put herself in the stool next to mine.

‘Hey,’ she said.

I glanced, despite my best judgement. Six foot of pure golden rays. Curls spilling over her shoulders, the most delicious zaftig femme I’d ever seen. She swung her stool and leaned her arm on the bar, leaning forward, bosoms speaking loud. I cleared my throat over their shouting.

‘Not many people come round here anymore,’ I said, signing to Anita for another rum. ‘It’s a little…archaic, for most queers’ tastes.’

‘The stained glass…the way the sunshines through it,’ she said, looking up at the windows. ‘I like it. Reminds me of church.’

She leaned further into me and it was like a light shone on my eye and I had to meet it. I looked. She had coral lipstick on tiny round lips. She smirked.

‘I like the sacrilege of it.’

Only so much a woman can take.

I downed my rum. Anita raised her eyebrow at me and turned, ignoring my sign for another. I sighed and pushed my trilby further back on my head. I had my hair pulled back in its usual bun, but nothing was sitting right tonight.

‘Look, you want a confession?’ I said. ‘I came here to drown my sorrows, not be picked up.’

‘I have a confession too,’ she said. ‘I came here looking for you…Clara Sinclair.’

Troubles. Knocking down my door. I signed desperately for another drink but Anita still had her broad back at me.

‘Meredith,’ the angel said, tipping her head. ‘That’s my name. You’ve probably guessed I have a job request.’

Defeated, I slumped over my folded arms.

‘I gotta warn you, I can’t see as I used to.’

‘Can’t, or won’t?’

How much does this bitch know, I thought.

I didn’t reply.

Meredith turned her stool around and leant her back against the bar, staring again at the patches of light barely shining through the painted bar windows.

‘My employers are looking for a woman who goes by the name of “The Mayflower.”‘


‘I heard you were the best point of contact as to her whereabouts. You have…history, I understand.’


‘That was a long time ago,’ I said, turning my face away.

‘Not long at all, if you’re still drowning your sorrows about it.’

Jessica May. My life, my light, my unrequited ball-and-chain, my perpetual hornet sting, my adolescence in two words. The pit I dug myself out from. Jess, with her big eyes and pointed nose and chin, her loud cackling laugh, her gorgeous hair spilling like a waterfall.

‘My employers have a great interest in learning her whereabouts. She’s implicated in a certain amount of…events…seen and foreseen.’

I said nothing.

Meredith took out a card from her handbag and slid it across to me.

‘If you look again, you’ll find her.’

‘I don’t want to find her.’

‘You’ll be well rewarded.’

I laughed.

‘It’d better be damn good.’

Meredith looked up from under her eyelashes at me.

‘You know the finding is the reward,’ she purred.

Then she was gone.

I won’t do it, I told myself. I ignored the card, as it stood prominent on the oak bar, like the moon in the sky, like a phone screen in the dark.

Anita slid a glass in front of me, filled with purple liqueur. I glared up at her. Good ol’ Anita, forty-two years old and six-three, born under a man’s name, best potion maker this side of Sun City.

‘What’s this?’

‘Forget-me-not,’ she said.

I grasped it with both hands and chugged it down. Sweet, violets, strong afterburn at the back of the throat. Slammed the glass on the table, tossed Anita a few coins, and grabbed my coat.

Guess I knew I was doomed from the start, if Jess was involved.


Written by G.J.

26/05/2015 at 9:45 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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