It's always the neighbour
"This is about the murder upstairs, again?" opening the door more. "I'm not here on a delivery." answers Ouk.
"This is about the murder upstairs, again?" opening the door more. "I'm not here on a delivery." answers Ouk.
The department is buzzing with activity as Ouk walks in. The chief and his ancillaries would have come in early because of the murder in the wee hours of the morning. Ouk makes a point of walking in
The shrill ringer of a phone rills on incessantly. Realizing it is his work phone, and that the ringing will not stop, Ouk kicks off his covers, and walks out to the kitchen to answer it.
"Are any of your posts about anything that is worth posting about?" He asks. "If it makes me laugh, it is worth it."
"I've sewed the bottom of the sock to the top." He explains, trying to get his fellow conscripts to take a more active interest in his problem. "There's no way my foot is going to fit in it now."
I look around to see if there are security cameras, that I might submit a video of the park to the professional parallel parkers' association for prizes or honorary membership.
I bring coffee when I travel now. My beans and a grinder, and my Hario V60.
I'm excited to use my screwdriver, but– I've learned this from my Dad– you have to curse a bit.