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  I got a lot of compliments about my shampoo today—not the type of thing I would expect people to notice easily, but a man can't always choose his compliments. Somehow, those positive comments became the highlight of my week.

  Walking toward the line of police officers, it is not uncommon for civilians to huddle together during a cold day outside the confines of a horrible crime scene. There is no snow, and the sky is a haze of blue—it has its charms, I guess.

  The excitement on people's faces when they witness something new, profound, and reasonably morbid... I find it interesting to observe how people gorge their souls through their eyes on the abnormalities committed by other beings of flesh and blood. Humans are a curious kind, and yet, there is nothing kind about what I was about to step into.

  "I think she is dead," said the woman draped in a thick black coat, with shoes that looked like they would hurt if worn for more than twenty minutes. She spoke to a man who seemed more interested in the cigarette he was smoking.

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  "Sergeant Scribe, this way, sir. The Captain wants you to see this."

  ‘Come take a look at this cliché’; if I had a dime for every statement I heard in reference to a YouTube video...

  ‘Sigh,’ the joys of living in one's head.

  My therapist says I am reserved, but I know myself enough to be comfortable being shy—not the easiest thing to do considering my line of work, but I guess one has to work with their lemons.

  "Just a moment," I said as I walked behind the chimney of a man puffing a cloud of smoke that easily carried into my very being. Why do people inhale these things?

  Crossing past the temporary demarcation, I noticed a few uniformed individuals. Each took their time to glance in my direction—proof enough of my lack of socialization, evident in the way they looked at me. One or two offered a nod, while others just looked through me; that, I don’t mind.

  No need to hasten my pace to avoid them, but I could already see a woman huddled up on a bench. She looked comfortable, albeit a bit cold, which was weird in this climate. She didn’t hide her shivers; though truth be told, I was decked in warm clothes, and it didn’t stop the cold from giving me a backhand every other second.

  ‘Mother Nature; I wonder what she was like as a rowdy teenager—all wrath, sheer fatality. I guess the dinosaurs found that out. We must be dealing with her current level of sophistication.’

  While standing a few paces away from my Captain, it occurred to me she had a human head on her lap. Well, talk about a woman’s wrath, after all.