At some point in every person's life this question comes to mind, "What am I doing here". This fictional story is based on that question.
Stuck In A Tight Spot
by: S. Hunter Smith
Twenty years ago I started as a beat cop, walking the streets of this little town. There wasn't much crime when I started so I spent many hours just getting to know the store owners, especially the baker. As the years passed, the town grew and so did I. For the past few years I was assigned desk duty, but the Captain said I needed to get back out on the street.
Here I am sitting behind the wheel of my cruiser watching the old neighborhood. Things changed quite a bit over twenty years including the bakery. My old friend retired and sold his shop to some nationwide chain coffee shop. What ever happened to a simple cup of caffeine and a few delicious donuts? Things seem to be pretty normal around here, not a whole lot to be concerned about. People walk by and wave at me and occasionally someone stops to talk with me. It looks like patrol duty won't be so tough after all.
I guess I spoke too soon. That kid just snatched the old ladies purse and ran down an alley. I can't believe that my first day out here I have to chase some punk. The worst part is that I am the only cop around here and the cruiser won't fit down that narrow alley. “Dispatch this is Carl, I am in pursuit of a purse snatcher” I radioed in. Running, oh remember, that's like walking but faster. “Stop, police...stop right there you punk!” I yelled at the kid as he kept running away from me. I was moving faster than I have in several years as I dodged a trash can here and there. “Come on kid...just stop and I'll take it easy on you.” I called out to him again. Just then I saw a large dumpster wedged up against one side of the alley.
“Humph, ouch.” Great,...now that kid stops. Wait...he's laughing at me, I guess I can't blame him. “Please kid, have mercy on an old cop, toss the purse over to me and you can go.” I pleaded with him. To my surprise he tossed the purse to my feet and with a final laugh he turned and ran to the end of the alley and around the corner. “Dispatch this is...arghh...Carl...the foot chase is over, I have recovered the merchandise, but the thief got away.” “Are you okay, Carl?” “Dispatch, I'm afraid that all those donuts have finally caught up to me. Umm, Officer needs assistance. Ugh,...you might want to bring a tow truck, I'm, umm...stuck in the alley.”
That's it, it's time to retire,...and join a gym.
Here I am sitting behind the wheel of my cruiser watching the old neighborhood. Things changed quite a bit over twenty years including the bakery. My old friend retired and sold his shop to some nationwide chain coffee shop. What ever happened to a simple cup of caffeine and a few delicious donuts? Things seem to be pretty normal around here, not a whole lot to be concerned about. People walk by and wave at me and occasionally someone stops to talk with me. It looks like patrol duty won't be so tough after all.
I guess I spoke too soon. That kid just snatched the old ladies purse and ran down an alley. I can't believe that my first day out here I have to chase some punk. The worst part is that I am the only cop around here and the cruiser won't fit down that narrow alley. “Dispatch this is Carl, I am in pursuit of a purse snatcher” I radioed in. Running, oh remember, that's like walking but faster. “Stop, police...stop right there you punk!” I yelled at the kid as he kept running away from me. I was moving faster than I have in several years as I dodged a trash can here and there. “Come on kid...just stop and I'll take it easy on you.” I called out to him again. Just then I saw a large dumpster wedged up against one side of the alley.
“Humph, ouch.” Great,...now that kid stops. Wait...he's laughing at me, I guess I can't blame him. “Please kid, have mercy on an old cop, toss the purse over to me and you can go.” I pleaded with him. To my surprise he tossed the purse to my feet and with a final laugh he turned and ran to the end of the alley and around the corner. “Dispatch this is...arghh...Carl...the foot chase is over, I have recovered the merchandise, but the thief got away.” “Are you okay, Carl?” “Dispatch, I'm afraid that all those donuts have finally caught up to me. Umm, Officer needs assistance. Ugh,...you might want to bring a tow truck, I'm, umm...stuck in the alley.”
That's it, it's time to retire,...and join a gym.
Copywright 2011 Smith, S. Hunter
This story and others are available for publishing.
Contact S. Hunter Smith via email: SHunterSmith.ProudAmerican@gmail.com
This story and others are available for publishing.
Contact S. Hunter Smith via email: SHunterSmith.ProudAmerican@gmail.com
Have you ever thought to yourself, "I am a genius!" Oh, come now, tell the truth, you know you have. This fictional story is about a confused, well..."Genius".
"Mad Genius? A Journal Entry"
by: S. Hunter Smith
Date: ???
Today, not yesterday or the day after but,...today. Does it matter anymore what the date is on the calendar, or what day of the week or week of the year it is? I spend every day working on my plans to improve the mundane lives of regular people around the world, but they do not listen. Carefully and strategically I plan my day to maximize each second of time in pursuit of the perfection that most only imagine possible. While normal humans relax in there chairs watching ridiculous television programs I continue to work, work, work...for what?!?
The time has come for me to...but wait,...what time is it? I, a genius in my own little piece of this world, have not the slightest clue what time of the day it is. Come to think of it, I don't even know what day of the week, or week of the year it is. If I were half the genius that I think I am, I would at least know what year it is. I need a vacation.
Note for tomorrow: Buy a clock, and a calendar.
Today, not yesterday or the day after but,...today. Does it matter anymore what the date is on the calendar, or what day of the week or week of the year it is? I spend every day working on my plans to improve the mundane lives of regular people around the world, but they do not listen. Carefully and strategically I plan my day to maximize each second of time in pursuit of the perfection that most only imagine possible. While normal humans relax in there chairs watching ridiculous television programs I continue to work, work, work...for what?!?
The time has come for me to...but wait,...what time is it? I, a genius in my own little piece of this world, have not the slightest clue what time of the day it is. Come to think of it, I don't even know what day of the week, or week of the year it is. If I were half the genius that I think I am, I would at least know what year it is. I need a vacation.
Note for tomorrow: Buy a clock, and a calendar.
Copywright 2011 Smith, S. Hunter
This andmany other stories are available for publishing.
Contact S. Hunter Smith via email: SHunterSmith.ProudAmerican@gmail.com
This andmany other stories are available for publishing.
Contact S. Hunter Smith via email: SHunterSmith.ProudAmerican@gmail.com
