A new version of season 3.
“I was just thinking about that description,” Michael said. Although he said he was going to leave, he sat next to Ty and thought aloud. “Do you think we could take it to Carl and have one of those sketch artist things done?”
“We don’t have enough information.”
“But Jordan saw the guy,” Michael reminded. “What if we take Jordan down to the station and have him give a description to the sketch artist?”
“Jordan’s not going anywhere near a fucking police station,” Ty chuckled. To him the idea was absurd. “And even if we did, did you not see the crack he was smoking? The more he’ll think about it, the more fucked up his memory will be. We got the only information we’re going to get out of him.”
“Don’t you think we should try?”
“I guess we could go to Carl,” Ty sighed. “What do you think Blake? When you were all doped up, would you have helped us?”
Blake looked at the pair next to him and snorted. Of course he would have helped, but he didn’t really feel like helping now. He had asked one simple question and it seemed as if no one gave a shit. No one gave a shit about Ted but him.
Brian came home and dropped his portfolio on the floor. He ignored his normal ritual of calling out for Justin, heading directly to the bar to pour himself a drink. He downed the first one quickly, and then poured himself another when he saw Justin standing in the doorway.
“I didn’t know if you’d still be hungry,” Justin said softly. “So I made dinner anyway.”
Justin looked into Brian’s eyes and knew something was wrong. That wasn’t the most troubling part however. What bothered Justin was that Brian wasn’t even trying to pretend. Apparently, it was something that Brian couldn’t just handle or take care of on his own. Justin took a deep breath and wondered what was going on and how big it was going to be. Looking at Brian, his heart pounded. Brian never did anything small. It was never one step, it was two. So if the normal man took one step forward, two steps back, Brian took two steps forward and four steps back. Justin prayed that he didn’t get trampled in the dance.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!