The tile shingles looked worn. I approached the house with unusual apprehension. Being a detective had made me to entering everyone’s home. I had entered so many. This time, I felt a presence, like someone was with me urging me to hurry and solve this case. It felt to be a woman and she was communicating that it was imperative that I get the murderer off the streets.
I (we) walked in and there was a convention of angels hanging around. The one that had been with me all along whispered to me that all these souls were my deputies.
© Carol Campbell
Thank you, Rochelle.
❤ ❤ ❤