River

Blame my friends who don’t listen when I say something is complete

My best attempt at marketing is just posting part of the short story (written by me) that inspired the book I’m writing

Olive sat at the police station surrounded by scary noises and detectives all with flashing badges and accusatory questions. She was upset. No matter how many times she asked questions, no one volunteered any information. Slowly she turned her head to the only window in the precinct watching the iron gray water crash against the side of the building. She knew there were mermaids in there.

An hour later the small girl sat in the interrogation room, head downcast towards the table. Sitting next to her was a crocheted doll made out of several types of yarn. Big green buttons for the eyes. Two detectives stood on the other side of the glass. They studied her.

“We could let her go Beetle.” The younger one said. He was staring down at the case file in his hands. “There is no correlation between her and the murders. You’re really grasping at straws here.”