Manhattan Project: Police Station

“Like any cop or you want the station?” The cabbie didn’t blink. At least he wasn’t foreign. That was rare.

“Station!” I climbed in and sat staring at the pictures.

I paid my tab and ran up the stairs and inside, panting when I reached the front desk. I swallowed and tried to calm my unsteady nerves while the receptionist put down the phone. “May I help you?”

“I took these pictures, and um, well, I caught someone falling from the Statue of Liberty? Who do I need to talk to?”

“Let me get someone.” The receptionist picked up the phone and dialed. She spoke calmly into the phone, like this kind of thing happened every day.

I was kind of jumpy, I mean I captured the end of someone’s life, on film! This was big!

“Ma’am, Officer Bragg will see you. Wait right over there.” She pointed to a row of black chairs against the wall. I felt as nervous as if I were waiting for the Principal to call me into his office.

“You took some pictures?” I jumped when a deep voice addressed me. I nodded.
“Follow me.”

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