Been a long few months, but I found a little time to write something. From a story of about 3k words. This is all I will put here for now:
The fedora looked up and it wasn’t on the old man. It was on Purcell, the trailer park owner; a thoroughly disgusting creature with a classical name. He looked up with his sunken, watery black eyes and slammed the door of the trailer behind him. He was a fat, filthy bastard, in a stained white wife-beater shirt and soiled blue plaid used car salesman slacks. His misshapen loafers were beyond the help of a cleaning rag. He sported his usual chewing cigar in the corner of the mouth and featured a thin line of brown mess that dripped off his chin and onto the waiting wife-beater below. He was a symphony repulsive, a concerto revolting.