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Crime Scene Blues

Version Crimson.1

Stone sighed, took a sip of the stale coffee. Riveta never used to let the pot go stale; she'd either drink it all too fast or make sure a new one got made. He missed her so much. The counselor said that was going to be the case for a long time. 

Stone actually preferred it when the other shields busted his chops about seeing the shrink. They made lots of Frasier jokes, and Tony Soprano jokes, and Stone felt a little bit normal. For a little while. 

He tried to focus on the bag of evidence from the latest vic. He had his notebook out, but there wasn't much to write about. A lighter, cheap convenience-store type. And the piece of paper, folded, crumpled. 

A list. 

how i answer the phone
the comic book contest
crows cawing
social-networking software
art vs helping

The writing getting sloppier, or more hurried, with each item. Two more things.

sun vs moon

Stone took another sip. Riveta always loved a good mystery...