For The Record
“She was attractive. Cute face.”
“Facts, please,” the officer cringed, pausing his pen.
“Black-rimmed glasses, plum lipstick and…”
“What was stolen?”
“My cellphone. One minute in my hand. The next, gone.”
A woman was called to the counter by the second officer on duty.
“Reporting a theft,” she announced. “Thief had salt and pepper hair.”
“What was taken?”
“My cellphone.”
The officers compared the complainants with the details given.
“You two realize making false claims is an offence,” one said.
“We can let you go this time,” the other scolded. “Go home and make up or see a marriage counsellor.”
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction regardless of the season or location she finds herself in.
Please support the site by purchasing one of my books on Amazon. Check out Quitting The Grave, a murder mystery set on the Oregon Trail. Plus, don't forget my other books: They Both Loved Vonnegut, Ahab's Adventures in Wonderland, and Picasso Painted Dinosaurs.