Random words generated by creativitygames.net

Here’s my story from random words.

junk…power…croissant…sandals…pajamas…crowd

It appeared that the bloody sandals were all that remained of the unknown victim. The grizzly discovery was near the dumpster of the Dunkin’ Doughnuts that occupied the corner opposite the new Starbucks. It was 7:45 am so crowd control was a nightmare. The police officers had been stopping on their usual rounds of the coffee shops. A stereotypical event for sure.

There had been a wave of panic in the small city after it had been shaken to the core with two murders in two days. Officer O’Malley (yes stereotypical) barricaded the area with his 260 pound , mostly muscular, body.  He waved at civilians, some in pajamas, and shouted for them to keep their distance. There was great power in his baritone voice.

“This is a crime scene folks! Stay back!”

In the meantime, the workings of the coffee shop continued unabated. Even the screams of the elderly bag lady who discovered the shoes had not risen above the din of fans and pans in the bake shop. So when Maurice swung open the back door with an armful of junk, he visibly jumped from the start that the scene gave him.

Officer O’Malley appeared beside him.

“Maurice, you’ll have to stand back inside. We have detectives about to arrive. ” He pointed to the ground a few feet away. The sandals had already begun drawing flies. They were sticking to the coagulating redness.

Maurice pressed on. He had work to do. They danced from left to right until Maurice took an opportunity to dip beneath a bulky arm.

After depositing the junk in the dumpster he scooped up the sandals. He raised them to his nose as a collective gasp and one wretch of nausea came from spectators.

“Yup, strawberry.”

He tossed the sandals back to the ground and re-entered the shop abruptly slamming the door behind him.

A taxi blaring an impatient horn was the only sound for miles. Then pockets of snickering ending with a back slapping roar as the misunderstanding became clear.

About 20 minutes passed before O’Malley, still red-faced, sauntered to the counter on the inside. Maurice shouted, “The usual 3 strawberry cremes and a decaf?”

The officer looked at his shoes as he whispered,” Make it a croissant today, will ya?”