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
classmates
The
writing getting sloppier, or more hurried, with each item. Two more
things.
sun
vs moon
anti-max
Stone
took another sip. Riveta always loved a good mystery...
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