Home...if you can call it thatMature

Back to the dump. Late. It's already 11. Woo. Stick pizza in microwave. Slump in filthy armchair with file.

Learnt nothing really today. Spent most of it filling the bloody paperwork to get the stiff in. Have a proper look tomorrow. God, I can't wait. This armchair is so comfy. My eyes are drooping.


The phone jerks me awake, the remains of the pizza joining the detritus on the floor. I answer.

"Who the hell is it at this time of the night?"

"Bill, glad you're up"

Cover the phone, groan. Why did she have to be so cheerful at this time? Even if it was just a facade.

"What do you want? It had better be important."

"If you get over here, there's lots of fun and excitement just for you."

"Oh?  What sort exactly? And whereabouts?"

"The sort only a dead body in an alley can provide."

"Never knew you were into necrophilia, Amanda."

"Alright Stevens, playtime is over. Get your filthy arse out of your little shithole of a room and do your job. And it's Captain Redgrave to you."

"You're so domineering at times. I like that. On my way Boss."

"Wipe your feet before you come out, we don't want any of your crap out here."

God, my boss sure was a bitch. I enjoyed rubbing her up the wrong way for the sheer hell of it.

The End

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