“So how did you love-birds meet?” Lucy sipped her wine.
John and my eyes met before I blurted, “the park” and at the same time, John blurted “the bridge.” Lucy arched her brows. I chuckled lightly, “He meant we met on the bridge in the park. I was listening to music and doing my daily jog. John was walking his dog. As if faith was pulling us together, we ran into one another on that bridge.”
“And you fell in love just like that?” Lucy narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
“Absolutely, like Cinderella.” I replied with a wide smile but deep down, even I don’t buy that tale. In fact, I can’t even buy our boyfriend/girlfriend act. Truth is, I despise working with him but without him, I wouldn’t be able solve this case.
That day on the bridge in the park was when I slapped a pair of handcuffs around his fat wrists and read him his rights because John had unknowingly witnessed a murder the previous night and was still wearing the same blood-spattered shirt. However, he didn’t know the murderer nor could he describe it for some reason which is what’s complicating this case.
A Response for Sunday Photo Fiction.