140Story - Day 1

I thought of something new I'm going to try.  Full disclaimer, this is an experiment, and as such has a very high probability of failing.  But it might work, too.
   I thought about people who consume information in tiny chunks nowadays, which is many people.  If you can't express it in 140 characters, then what's the point #amirite?  But stories take more than 140 characters.  They require development and nurturing.  No one can do a story in 140 character chunks, you just can't follow the narrative thread.
     But what about 140 word chunks?
Could a person - me - write a story in 140 word units, and have it hold together?  Could people consume it in 140 word chunks and enjoy it?  I don't know, but I want to find out.

I'm going to write a story in 140 word chunks and post it daily.  How many days?  Until it's done. Or until I lose interest.  Or until I find out that everyone else has lost interest.  Like I said, it's an experiment.
   I chose a modern noir story, because I think that sort of tale requires very little set-up, the tropes are familiar, and people can jump in at any point and get the gist of what's going on.  I hope.  So here goes, the first installment of my 140Story, Bullets Ain't Cheap.

The night was hot but the whisky was cold, and Scully let me put it on my tab.  Funds had been running dry lately, with a few clients who hadn’t bothered to pay me and a landlord always half a day away from packing up what little I had and throwing it onto the sidewalk. Sure, being a private detective was tough, but I was my own boss, worked my own hours, and never had to wear a necktie.  It was a fair trade in my book.
    I tapped my glass, hoping Scully would spot me another two fingers of scotch.  He did.  As the turpentine vapors hit my nose I savored the liquor on my tongue.  I’d developed a taste for it during the war.  Maybe too much of a taste.
    “Lily,” Scully said, “the gentlemen over there want