Let the games begin . . .Mature

I opened my notebook.

Picking up the pen that sat at the edge of my desk, I jotted down the day's date.

I stared at it for a moment, wondering how long it would take me to close this case. Some cases took months, years even . . . but it rarely took me that long. Typically, I'd close a case within a span of a month, maybe two. That was because I was a hard worker. I had a tunnel-vision-like mindset whenever I took on a homicide, a determination to catch the criminal and put them behind bars, no matter the cost.

This case would be no different. I would catch the killer, regardless of the gender, the race, the religion . . . I would never let a bias get in the way of my work.

All that mattered was this:

There was a criminal out there, thinking they were going to get away with murder.

I had other plans.

We would be like a cat and a mouse, me being the former, for many hours, for many weeks . . . but in the end, I would catch them, I had to. The criminal would try very hard to escape, to play games with me, to stay out of my grasp.

I welcomed the challenge.

And as I stood, straightened my coat, and headed for the door, I muttered only a few words:

"Let the games begin."

The End

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