Armed and dangerous

A noir story that I started working on just recently. So far, only two paragraphs of the prologue have been written, which I will post right here.

Prologue
A cold autumn evening. Outside, the rain is drumming against the window sill, which started early in the morning and has yet to finish. The dim light of the street lamps breaks through the narrow slits in the blinds, leaving pale stripes on the wall. Slouched in an old, worn-out armchair, I take a drag from an unfiltered "Prima" and, tilting my head back, release the smoke that immediately disperses under the ceiling.
Thoughts flow sluggishly and incoherently. It seems I am gradually losing touch with reality.