A Horse Named Winnie

“I’ve been through the desert on a horse named Winnie.” Her singing voice, although pleasant, was not exactly up to the standard of a professional. It can be screechy at certain points, and full of unattractive vowels and consonants, despite her alluring appearance.  Special Agent Joseph Borianez was in love but his lovely girlfriend and partner is driving him crazy with her singing.

“The lyric is “The horse with no name” Erin, not “a horse named Winnie,” the FBI agent said, a deadpan look on his face. The forensic anthropologist scrunched her eyebrows together and said matter-of-factly, “Of course it does. Its name is Winnie.” Joseph rolled his eyes when he thought his partner wasn’t looking. When he saw the semi-death glare on her face afterwards, he knew that she had.

Cringing inwardly, the former Army Ranger tried to smooth things over. “Look, Erin, the song is basically a metaphor. “Horse” is slang for heroin. It’s not like the more common ones like Mary Jane, weed, pot, etc. but it’s what people refer to it sometimes.” Brows still scrunched together, Erin stared at her boyfriend, evidently confused. “If there’s not an actual horse, then how does the man in the song free it? It makes no logical sense.” Heaving a sigh, Joseph began to explain.

“There’s a horse in the song, yes, but it’s about a person venturing into a new life only to discover that it’s no better than where he was originally.” Seeming to understand, the forensic anthropologist said, “Oh, kind of like us?” Perplexed, the FBI agent’s eyebrows went up as he exclaimed, “No! Not like us! It’s just a song, Erin. It’s not based on anything in real life.” Nodding, Erin said, “Oh, I understand now. The horse in the song is me and you should set me free.” Panic coursed through Joseph’s entire body as he frantically said, “No, I’m not going to set the horse free! Her name is Winnie and I need her!” Amused, the forensic anthropologist said with a smirk, “So you should keep me?” Joseph, feeling immensely relieved, flashed his girlfriend his signature Charm Smile. “Definitely.” Erin then hooked her arms through Joseph’s and the two sang together at the top of their lungs, “I’ve been through the desert on a horse named Winnie.”

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Takedown

“Arrest them all!” The lead officer shouted as the police stormed into a run-down building where a notorious gang is squatting in. They have been after the gang for months but with no promising leads. This is the only chance they have to take them down and bring them to justice. 

The armed officers along with SWAT entered the building, checking every single room to see if there are any gang members inside. “Every room is clear, there’s no one here.” One of the officers reported. The lead officer sighed in frustration, angry that the gang has eluded the long arm of the Law once again. “Damn it!” He exclaimed, punching the nearest wall with his fist, creating a sizable dent. The other officers and SWAT members looked on, all disappointed that good has not triumphed today.

“I know that you want to put in a win today, but you couldn’t have known that the gang wouldn’t be at the building.” The police captain said when the lead officer came into his office to give him his report on the raid. “With all due respect, Sir, I have it on good authority that the gang would be at the building, someone must have tipped them off that we were coming so they left before we could get to them.” The police captain sighed as he leaned back in his chair, unsure of what to say to put his officer’s mind at ease.

After a brief moment, he said, “Just focus on getting justice for the people that need it. I’m sure that the gang will resurface again and when they do, you and your team will be there to take them down.” The lead officer let a small smile appear on his countenance at the police captain’s words. “Will do, Sir, and thank you.” The police captain nodded in response and the lead officer got up and left the office.

As soon as the officer is out of earshot, the police captain pulled out his cellphone and dialled a number. He then waited for the call to be answered and when it was, he said, “Get the rest of the gang out of the city as soon as you can. I’ll join you when I am able to.” He then ended the call and put the phone back in his jacket pocket.

Museum Massacre

“I didn’t mean to kill them!” The suspect in handcuffs exclaimed, hoping that the detective sitting in front of him will believe him. The detective looked at the suspect, her face an emotionless mask. She wanted to believe that he didn’t mean to kill all those people at the museum with a biological weapon, but she’s having a hard time doing so given that the evidence all points to this man.

She flipped through the file that she had on him and aside from the fact that he is a middle-class businessman working at a well-respected company, there isn’t anything that would paint him as the one that released the gas on all those innocent people. Yet there’s something about him that makes her suspicious. He told her that he was at home watching a hockey game on TV at the time of the attack, but after interviewing his neighbours, his alibi didn’t hold up.

A few of them said that they remember seeing him at his house, but he didn’t stay there for long. “He went out around 9pm,” one neighbour said. “I was taking out the recycling when I saw him, I asked him where he was going and he said that he’s going out somewhere. I wanted to ask where but didn’t, figured that he’s one of those non-social types.” The detective noted it in her notepad and thanked the neighbour before heading back to her car.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she left the interrogation room much to the suspect’s chagrin. He yelled after her, asking if he is allowed to leave. The detective paid him no mind as she exited, closing the door behind her. She then made a beeline for her desk in the bullpen and sat down in her chair. Opened a new tab on her internet browser, she began looking for anything that she could use to tie the man in custody to the crime. Finding none, she let out a frustrated huff and ran a hand through her hair.

“There’s got to be something that can connect him to the museum attack,” she muttered under her breath. She then flipped through the file on the suspect again, thinking that she had missed something the first time she read it. After scanning it over a few times, she all but threw the file down onto her desk, the frustration of the case catching up to her. Rubbing a hand over her face, she glanced at the clock on the wall: 6pm. Maybe I can find something tomorrow.  She thought, deciding to head home and sleep rather than stay at the precinct and pull an all-nighter. Closing the tabs on her computer, she turned the machine off and walked out of the building. Meanwhile, back in the interrogation room, the handcuffed suspect called out to the rest of the law enforcement officers: “Any chance one of you could let me out of here?”

I Forgive You

“I forgive you.” Three words that you would rarely hear me say. I have been betrayed far too many times. More times than I could count. It’s not that I didn’t want to forgive the ones who had stabbed me in the back, it’s that they didn’t deserve to be forgiven. It may sound harsh, but that’s the way I deal with things like this.

It all started a few months ago. Joseph had dropped me off at the lab before heading to the FBI. I went downstairs to bone storage to identify some ancient remains as we didn’t have a case to solve. I stood beside the light table, holding the left femur bone in my hand. I examined the bone closely, mentally noting each and every fracture that this person had sustained when he/she was alive. Just then, my phone started to ring, causing me to break my concentration. Fishing out the device from my pocket, I answered the call.

“Hey, honey,” a male voice greeted from the other end. A smile appeared on my face as I recognized the voice. “Hi, Dad, how are you?” There was a slight pause before my father replied, “I’m fine, Erin. How are you? Has that FBI partner of yours come to his senses and asked you to marry him?” Rolling my eyes, I bit back a retort with as much restraint as I can muster and said, “No, Dad, Joseph hasn’t asked me to marry him. We’ve only just started dating, so the notion of marriage is not at the forefront of our minds. Did you call me in the middle of the day just to ask me that?” I asked.

A sigh was heard over the phone as my father gathered his courage. “Well, it’s sort of why I called, but the real reason is that I’m in trouble and I need your help.” Curious and concerned, I asked my father what kind of trouble he has found himself in. “It’s complicated, honey, just please help me get out of this mess,” he pleaded. Something then clicked in my brain as the words left my Dad’s lips. He promised not to do it again and he still did it. I thought, my anger rising.

Taking a calming breath, I said, “Dad, either tell me what’s going on or I swear I will hang up the phone.” My father heaved another sigh as he finally told me the truth: “I hurt someone, badly, and now the police are after me. I need to find a place to lay low for a while so I thought I would stay with you until all this blows over.” That did it, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Gritting my teeth, I said to the man I call my father, “You promised me that you wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again, even if it’s to protect me and my sister. You have broken that promise so I’m afraid that you will have to find somewhere else to stay.” My Dad’s voice then became quiet as he asked, “Will you ever forgive me?” Letting out a sigh of my own, I replied, “I have forgiven you too many times, I’m uncertain that I will be able to do it again, goodbye Dad.” I then ended the call, hoping that I had made the right decision.

Memoir

A universe unto itself,

An imaginative version of the real world.

Telling a descriptive story,

That exists in memory alone.

A dreamscape rather than a photograph,

Weaving a vast fantastical scene.

Constructed from unassailable fact,

Along with rough simulacrums of the past.

Fiction combines with reality,

Creating a memorable memoir.

Spin the Globe

“No, this can’t be happening!” Cassandra exclaimed, slumping into her chair. “There goes my trip to Iceland.” She muttered, running a hand through her auburn hair. The Icelandic airline has cancelled all their flights, citing a glitch in their system. She had saved up from working various odd jobs and watches what she spends on necessities and online splurges. Now that she has enough in her bank account, the young woman planned to travel the world. Though now with the planes grounded, she can’t go much of anywhere. Or could she?

Sitting upright, Cassandra grabbed the light pink Wild & Wolf globe sitting near the small bookshelf on her desk. Turning the miniature planet with her finger, she decided to try an age-old trick. Setting the globe down onto her desk, she spun the globe as hard as she could. Closing her eyes, she raised a finger and blindly pointed to a location. Whatever place her finger points to, she will travel there instead.

The globe stopped its speedy rotation when Cassandra put her forefinger on it. Opening her eyes, she saw that she had landed on the island of Greece. “Just like Iceland but not as far, to an extent.” She said to herself, pleased that Lady Luck had smiled down on her. She then booked the next flight out to the Mediterranean island, thankfully LAX is not affected by the computer glitch and packed a suitcase filled with clothes and toiletries that will last her for about a couple of weeks.

Early the next day, Cassandra got up when her alarm went off and called for a cab to take her to the airport. After making sure that she has everything from her passport to her plane ticket, she left her apartment, locked the door and went downstairs. She then got into the waiting taxi and made her way to LAX. A smile appeared on her face as the cab took her to the city’s largest airport. Greece, here I come!

Once she arrived at LAX, she paid her cab fare and went inside. After a quick check-in process, Cassandra made her way to her gate. She didn’t have to wait long before she had to board the plane. She filed onto the aircraft with the other passengers and found her seat in the middle rows near the window. Placing her luggage in the overhead compartment, she sat down and looked out the window. To think that all I did was spin the globe, Cassandra mused, giddy that in just 15 hours, she will bask in the warm sun of the Greek islands.