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.