Entr'acte
“Doug was sitting in a gunmetal grey chair at the side of a police detective’s desk. The blank missing persons report was on the desk in front of the cop, but instead of filling it out, he was drawing large circles on a scratch pad.
“You say she was chasing someone. Was there any sign of this person when you reached the end of the alley?” The question was asked perfunctorily; the answer didn’t matter.
“No, for the one-millionth time. When I got there, no one was around, and there was no sign of ...any commotion,” Doug said.
“There were just some parked cars and a guy selling hot dogs from a stand on the corner.
“Joyce and her dog had disappeared, and I wasn’t that far behind her. There wasn’t enough time for her to even reach the corner.”
“Mr. Bryan,” the weary-looking cop said. “I can’t file this report. Technically, your girlfriend is not a missing person. Right now she is an adult who is barely an hour late for an appointment.”
“What about the storm I told you about?MoreLess
“You say she was chasing someone. Was there any sign of this person when you reached the end of the alley?” The question was asked perfunctorily; the answer didn’t matter.
“No, for the one-millionth time. When I got there, no one was around, and there was no sign of ...any commotion,” Doug said.
“There were just some parked cars and a guy selling hot dogs from a stand on the corner.
“Joyce and her dog had disappeared, and I wasn’t that far behind her. There wasn’t enough time for her to even reach the corner.”
“Mr. Bryan,” the weary-looking cop said. “I can’t file this report. Technically, your girlfriend is not a missing person. Right now she is an adult who is barely an hour late for an appointment.”
“What about the storm I told you about?MoreLess
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