Mercedes wrung her hands. She didn’t know why she was here. And they
made her sit in this chair. Without
sanitizing it first.
“Mrs. Young, did you hear me?”
Mercedes looked up at the police
officer sitting across the table. His face was nice enough, but his nose was
crooked. Undoubtedly broken sometime in
the past. She hadn’t heard him. She
shook her head.
“Where were you last night at 9:45?” He wiped his nose with his hand and Mercedes
almost threw up. Those hands had touched
her arm. She shuddered.
“Mrs. Young!” The cop was getting angry,
but she couldn’t seem to concentrate on his words.
She shook her head, trying to clear
the image of millions of germs crawling up her arm. “I…I was at home, reading a
book.”
“Was there anyone else there?”
“No.”
“Do you know where your husband
was?”
Mercedes looked down at the
table. She didn’t know where her husband
had been. She was about to say this when she noticed a crumb on the table. It
was on the officer’s side and it was white and powdery.
It
could be powdered sugar. Cops eat donuts, right? It must be powdered sugar.
But her mind wouldn’t let it go. What if it was anthrax? What if it was anthrax
and the police officer breathed one of his angry germ-filled breaths and it
flew over the table and she breathed it in? She would die.
She would die.
Mercedes’ breath came faster, she
couldn’t seem to slow down her heart.
Suddenly the angry, germy cop was
behind her, yanking her up. She pushed
him away, not wanting his germs to crawl up her arm again. She struggled and
kicked and writhed, but it was no use. He ended up sitting on her handcuffing
her hands behind her back.
As he hauled her out of the room,
saying something about remaining silent, she could barely walk, barely think,
for trying to get all the germs off.
Oh. My. Goodness. I knew I would love this from the first line. And it's more than love. This was Fantastic! The germs, the crumb, the mistaken thoughts of the officer, the poor Mercedes. Wow. Great job!
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