The window wound back up and the car pulled off slowly, careful not to spray water as it went. Looking skyward again Maalik said.
“Fine, I’ll help him, but not because you made me.”
“Oh no! no, no, you are not leaving me in the dark on anything. Not after everything you’ve put me through. Now who was on the phone?”
I can’t take this! I’m sick of this room, I’m sick of you, I’m sick of the vending machine that’s made me so constipated that my eyes are changing colour.’
The hallway smelt the way perfume companies wanted you to believe lavender and roses smelt, and it set off warning bells in his mind.
“What good is a detective who can’t even solve a simple Sudoku?”
A friend pointed me at an anthology being put together of 42-word stories and suggested I give it a go.
“I know, I know, it’s all very surprising, and Bob really is that sweet guy who’s kind… and boring and harmless. I’ll miss him too. But sadly, he didn’t survive this hostage situation, but it’s ok, life goes on.”
The first few months floated by in a drug-addled haze as they worked to find the ‘correct balance’ of medication. Eventually reaching a point where they felt they’d achieved what they set out to achieve and that therapy could now begin.
“Thank you so much for coming, I’m sorry I had to keep you waiting, but no matter what is going on in a school there is always something else happening. Please take a seat.”
Chips By D.I. Jolly A Jamie Tylor Story I looked down at the expanding red mess on the floor and fought hard not to vomit. It had been less than half an hour since the call came in of a possible domestic disturbance, but by the time I arrived all that was left was some…