No trains coming

I was too traumatized by my epic trip home from the city last weekend to make it to many Litquake events this year, despite the stellar lineup. But I did BART on over Friday night for the Underbelly of the City reading at the venerable Ha-Ra Club. Some overheard snippets for your noirish pleasure:

"I know the human heart is rotten."

"His first 48 hours out of the penitentiary had been a hassle."

"Her eyes were like tunnels—no trains coming."

"He couldn't remember the last time they embraced without a bruise."

"You may be a war hero, but there are people in North Beach who hate me."

"The strangers in me are unreliable. They are often drunk, and they don't look out for each other."

"She was a pretty, short, strong, ample woman."

Noirrrrrrrrrrr.