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I swiveled around on my chair in the dark office. Half my bottle of scotch was gone, and I was pouring myself another glass. I don't know why I like to get drunk when I close a case, maybe I'm an alcoholic.I peeked through the blinds to the street below.The city always looked beautiful from my window. The night lights of town sparkled off the skyscrapers, and little headlights could be seen moving about the streets. The window was cold to the touch. No surprise. Snow blanketed the trees and sidewalks, and everything looked very peaceful.Man's city glowed like a gem in the night air. Its radiant peace was a sharp contrast to the shrill sound of voices busily going about Bureau business. Phones were ringing incessantly in the distance, angrily waiting to be answered.I would have to go out there again soon. I was lead agent on the winter's most exciting case. I would go out there into that throng of people, and stand under the obnoxious fluorescent lights, and tell them they were all. I finished my shower and decided what I would wear for the day. Hmm, jeans and a T-shirt with a sweater, my usual outfit. I quickly grabbed my cell phone, wallet, and cans and got in my Subaru Outback and drove the seven miles to town. As usual, I turned on my cell phone and got out of the car, gathering the cans. As I walked up to get a cart for the cans, my cell phone went off singing my tones for texts. I usually have like twenty texts by the time I get to town because I live in the middle of nowhere, so I ignored it. I will check it later, I thought to myself. I went to the recycling machines and started to put the cans into one of the machines dripping old sticky soda on my hand, the one drawback to recycling cans. I ignored the soda on my hand, knowing that I would wash my hands when I was done. I got the cans done and pressed the receipt button and decided to take a break since I still had bottles and there was a line at the bottle machine. I.
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