Time had begun to dissolve into itself, as shapeless as the rain.  The silence has only broken by the tick of every second and the waiver of the fan hitting the pile of old records.

If I have to listen to the clock to strike the hour again, I will be on the freeway home. The fact that these hands never move backward did not in the least seem to restrain the impatience of the people passing by the open window.

There is no way in the whole entire universe am I waiting for this man.  My patience is developing thin, exceedingly thin. Just then, I heard the door open and shut, its creaking noise bringing a chill to my spine. It sounded like some dying animal, crying out its pain and sorrow with its last breath.

I spin around on my chair looking at a man that has the form of an adult but not the confidence. He moves like he's taking a tall body for a test drive, not really sure if it's his for keeps. Everything about him was wrong. His head perched at an angle on shoulders that were themselves corrupt and arched. His right arm was shorter than his left. He had a slim, pointed face, almost femininely delicate. He Must be a mama's boy.

" Detective Craig Foreman, I am Truman Posia. I'm sure you have a great background, experience, and areas of specialization, otherwise, you wouldn't have been recommended to me. So let's get straight to the point. I will pay you a great mound of cash to find everyone who deals with Dwayne F. Lewis. And even more to provide a detailed report, on everything." He says as he leans on the table with his lengthy arms, as he stares at me with his light blue eyes. He ruffles his sandy light brown hair waiting for my response.

" First answer my question... A crime has been committed at Freemont Street. The main suspect is a man named Sean Baker. It was said that a man had been walking along the pathway when he was suddenly shot in the stomach. The suspect had brown hair, blue eyes and wore a baggy Armani suit just like Sean Baker's.

Sean was asked to tell the story right from the beginning. "Well," said Sean, "I was just hanging around the park when I saw this man walking along the pathway. Suddenly, a guy came up from behind him and shot him! I ran home as fast as I could." The policemen asked him to give a description of the murderer. "He had a red mustache, red hair and a baggy Armani suit on."

"I think this man is telling a lie," said one of the policemen. How did he know?" I sit there once again listening to the clock tick as tension strains in the air. He struggles to find an answer, but it wasn't a usual answer, he has to answer the question with a question.

" How can the murderer shoot him in the stomach if he came up behind the man?" He says as I visualize a light bulb above his head.

" Correct, would you see the murdering scene? Or were you the shooter?" I ask not waiting for an answer. " You know where to bill me." I walk away, seeing his face in the reflection from the glass of the clock makes me smile. This is going to be fun...

The crowd of people wandering up and down the sidewalk was no different than any other place around the world but for some reason, one appearance stood out more than the others. Not really paying attention to faces, something I don't need to identify or learn I got an impression of her rich honey almond hair. But when I turned around she wasn't there, there was something about her. For one thing, I don't know what...