Post by oatmeal on Dec 23, 2003 9:44:28 GMT -5
Alrights... I'm gonna try this one again here!!! never done this b-4... i hope I do it right... here it goes...
The day was warm and comfortable. the kind of day everybody hopes for when they wake up in the morning. I walked outside bare footed and let the grass tickle my feet as I breathed in the sweet air. *Life is good...* I thought as I sat down in the middle of my lawn to watch the sun rise.
Then I woke. It was just a dream. I really live in New York and have a job as a detective at the NYPD. I'm in charge of the homicides. So as you can see, my life is nothing like my dream. My life isn't really all that bad though. It has its ups and downs just like everyone else.
I'm single... not married... live by myself in a cozy little apartment in Manhattan and try to keep to myself and try not to cause trouble... although I always do. It's kinda hard being a detective and not stirring things up between other people. If you ask anyone who knows me what kind of person I am, they'll probably tell you, "Uh... Detective Rachel is an okay person... she just needs to stop trying to get me and my husband separated," or maybe they'll say, "Rachel... you mean that strange detective...? why do we have to talk about her??"
Not everyone hates me though. I know an M.E. who thinks I'm not half bad. The M.E.'s name is Carson Evans, and I'd like to say he's not that bad himself. He's an interesting person... I've had dinner with him a few times... IT WAS NOT A DATE. He was just being nice I guess.
Anyway, when I woke, I threw on a blouse and some pants and put my hair up neatly. I didn't have to be at work for another couple of hours or so, but Carson insisted that I meet him down at the cafe for coffee and breakfast. He always popped up these little breakfast "meetings" up on me at the last minute.
I didn't drive to the cafe, because in Manhattan because of traffic, its always faster to walk (plus I don't have a car). the sights and sounds of Manhattan are an everyday thing for me. The sound of early morning traffic, the smell of hot dogs being sold on street corners, all that is just part of my everyday life.
The air was cool and crisp; a complete opposite of my dream. It really was a nice November morning I must admit. It was one of those mornings that say, "Winter is coming! Go Christmas shopping now and beat the rush!!" I never do listen to what it says, because I always procrastinate when it comes to Christmas gifts.
I stepped into the warmth of the Cafe, and sat down at a table where Carson was already sitting. "I was wondering when you'd get here," he said.
"What are you talking about? I'm ten minutes early!" I said in an annoyed tone. "Hey, I'm up and out of bed... I normally don't wake this early on fridays. What more do you want?"
"not much... I got you a coffee," He said as he pointed to the styrofoam cup sitting on the table. Carson took a sip of his coffee and said,"Any good homicides lately?"
"You know them all. Every dead victim I come across comes into your morgue for an autopsy."
"Yeah... I supose so..."
Carson is not good at making conversation most of the time. This little aspect is good considering most of the men I've come across are wierd and ask way too many questions. Then again most of them are reporters so they kind of have to ask questions. Ugh... sometimes being a detective in a big city like Manhattan really is not goods.
I really do most of the talking when I'm with Carson, but other times my mind drifts to other things and I never finish telling him anything. Carson says I probably have adult ADD and I should see a doctor about it, but I think I'm fine. Its something I've learned to deal with and changing it is not going to make me a better person.
"You know, Carson," I started,"The only time I tend to eat good food is when I'm with you."
"You should learn how to cook," He explained.
"I cook!" I protested.
"Yeah, you cook just about everything that's frozen and you can cook in the microwave."
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with TV dinners and frozen pizza," I told him.
"Maybe I could teach you how to cook sometime this weekend..." He said. "how's Saturday sound?"
"Saturday sounds good to me..."
My mind wandered off... see, I told you it tends to do that sometimes. I then remembered that I had to get to work a little early to file some papers.
"Aw, crap... Carson, I've got to go. I forgot about something I had to do at work," I explained as I stood and started to put on my jacket. "I'm really sory about having to leave so abruptly..."
"I understand... homicides is hell," He told me."I'll see you Saturday night."
I smiled at him. "five o'clock is good for you right??" I asked.
"sure... I have nothing planned then," he told me.
I felt really bad leaving him so early. He probably thinks I'm crazy; I seem to run out on him a lot. He never really questions why though. I tell him I got to leave and it doesn't seem to matter to him.
The day was warm and comfortable. the kind of day everybody hopes for when they wake up in the morning. I walked outside bare footed and let the grass tickle my feet as I breathed in the sweet air. *Life is good...* I thought as I sat down in the middle of my lawn to watch the sun rise.
Then I woke. It was just a dream. I really live in New York and have a job as a detective at the NYPD. I'm in charge of the homicides. So as you can see, my life is nothing like my dream. My life isn't really all that bad though. It has its ups and downs just like everyone else.
I'm single... not married... live by myself in a cozy little apartment in Manhattan and try to keep to myself and try not to cause trouble... although I always do. It's kinda hard being a detective and not stirring things up between other people. If you ask anyone who knows me what kind of person I am, they'll probably tell you, "Uh... Detective Rachel is an okay person... she just needs to stop trying to get me and my husband separated," or maybe they'll say, "Rachel... you mean that strange detective...? why do we have to talk about her??"
Not everyone hates me though. I know an M.E. who thinks I'm not half bad. The M.E.'s name is Carson Evans, and I'd like to say he's not that bad himself. He's an interesting person... I've had dinner with him a few times... IT WAS NOT A DATE. He was just being nice I guess.
Anyway, when I woke, I threw on a blouse and some pants and put my hair up neatly. I didn't have to be at work for another couple of hours or so, but Carson insisted that I meet him down at the cafe for coffee and breakfast. He always popped up these little breakfast "meetings" up on me at the last minute.
I didn't drive to the cafe, because in Manhattan because of traffic, its always faster to walk (plus I don't have a car). the sights and sounds of Manhattan are an everyday thing for me. The sound of early morning traffic, the smell of hot dogs being sold on street corners, all that is just part of my everyday life.
The air was cool and crisp; a complete opposite of my dream. It really was a nice November morning I must admit. It was one of those mornings that say, "Winter is coming! Go Christmas shopping now and beat the rush!!" I never do listen to what it says, because I always procrastinate when it comes to Christmas gifts.
I stepped into the warmth of the Cafe, and sat down at a table where Carson was already sitting. "I was wondering when you'd get here," he said.
"What are you talking about? I'm ten minutes early!" I said in an annoyed tone. "Hey, I'm up and out of bed... I normally don't wake this early on fridays. What more do you want?"
"not much... I got you a coffee," He said as he pointed to the styrofoam cup sitting on the table. Carson took a sip of his coffee and said,"Any good homicides lately?"
"You know them all. Every dead victim I come across comes into your morgue for an autopsy."
"Yeah... I supose so..."
Carson is not good at making conversation most of the time. This little aspect is good considering most of the men I've come across are wierd and ask way too many questions. Then again most of them are reporters so they kind of have to ask questions. Ugh... sometimes being a detective in a big city like Manhattan really is not goods.
I really do most of the talking when I'm with Carson, but other times my mind drifts to other things and I never finish telling him anything. Carson says I probably have adult ADD and I should see a doctor about it, but I think I'm fine. Its something I've learned to deal with and changing it is not going to make me a better person.
"You know, Carson," I started,"The only time I tend to eat good food is when I'm with you."
"You should learn how to cook," He explained.
"I cook!" I protested.
"Yeah, you cook just about everything that's frozen and you can cook in the microwave."
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with TV dinners and frozen pizza," I told him.
"Maybe I could teach you how to cook sometime this weekend..." He said. "how's Saturday sound?"
"Saturday sounds good to me..."
My mind wandered off... see, I told you it tends to do that sometimes. I then remembered that I had to get to work a little early to file some papers.
"Aw, crap... Carson, I've got to go. I forgot about something I had to do at work," I explained as I stood and started to put on my jacket. "I'm really sory about having to leave so abruptly..."
"I understand... homicides is hell," He told me."I'll see you Saturday night."
I smiled at him. "five o'clock is good for you right??" I asked.
"sure... I have nothing planned then," he told me.
I felt really bad leaving him so early. He probably thinks I'm crazy; I seem to run out on him a lot. He never really questions why though. I tell him I got to leave and it doesn't seem to matter to him.
I love making manga ... I suck at it!!!