McGregor Please….

Detectives were invariably poor and forgotten by society until the wife cheats or the husband wanders into unfaithfulness or the employee steps over the line and isn’t caught on video.

I shoved my briefcase into the back seat of the Subaru and smashed the seat with my buns and the black slacks I was wearing. I searched the keys on my ring and inserted it into the ignition. I took a deep breath and leaned my arms on the steering wheel and rested my long hair on the back of the seat. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and  Istretched until some tension released from my nerves.

“I really shouldn’t drink caffeine when I am upset. I get all nervous inside and my stomach does flip flops.” One more stretch and I pulled out of the parking lot. “Easy McGregor…. Things will work out….” I searched back and forth and eased the green machine I affectionately dubbed, Molly, out into traffic. My mind rushed back and forth over the bills due and I shook my head to release the tension headache building between my eyes. My brows creased and I rubbed my forehead hoping for some relief before it became a full scale war between my eyeballs. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” I yelled, “You’ve done it this time McGregor!!! You didn’t put any in the savings and now YOU,” I pointed to my reflection in the mirror, “Don’t have anything to rely on with things this slim! Stupid, Stupid, Stupid! But….” I pounded the steering wheel, “I will find a way.” I looked myself in the eyes in the mirror….. they were gorgeous brown eyes. Years of work and worry and fear. I had done hundreds of jobs and built a good reputation among my peers and customers. “Now if I can find some more customers and stop being the next detective on the skids…. That would be great!” I ruffled my curls over my forehead and left the stop light a bit stronger.

Thank you!

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