250310

The detective walked on to the crime scene that was filled with local police men. Detective James sighed, he knew that the scene was contaminated to no end, but protocols need to be followed. He turned to the young sergeant that had shown him the site: “Do me a favor kid, tell your amateur brigade to get the fuck off my crimes scene”. The stern voice made the young sergeant spring into action “Right away, sir.” Yelling at the top of his lungs the young sergeant ordered the rest of the local police force to drop everything they were doing and to leave the premises immediately. As they all walked past detective James, giving him evil eyes, he tried to remember all of their faces to the best of their abilities. James knew that a local police station like this is run by committee, there’s seldom one person calling the shots. In all likelihood one of these officers suggested processing the crime scene like this, knowing that the chaos on the scene would dilute any real evidence who had committed the murder. James looked at the wet mud, all of the officers leaving the same type of shoe prints. “Shit”, James mumbled to himself. They were all wearing standard issue work boots, at least something is done by protocol. Either way, the killer being someone in the police force was just an ad hoc theory. For now. “Done?” James asked the young sergeant. “Yes sir, that’s all of them.”

James turned around and walked into the large Japanese goun-yo temple. A murder in such a sacred place like this takes some balls, or some sense that the law doesn’t apply to you. At the feet of the altar lies a body covered by a white sheet. James looks around, no sign of a struggle. The floor is covered by identical muddy footprints, perhaps the local police force has put stuff back to where they belong, it’s hard to say. James understood then and there that evidence was going to a scarce resource in this case. Something the law abiding, protocol-guided, do things by the book - detective James was not used to nor comfortable with.

Random word - Favor

250311

From her point of view it wasn’t a “lie” lie, it was more of a gentle bending of the truth. Yes, she had kissed him but no, it wasn’t planned or actually meant anything. From his point of view it was a lie with a capital L. She had looked him right in the eyes, said that she didn’t kiss him, and now the smartphone footage showed something different. Despite him being technically sort of maybe right, she couldn’t stand the complaining and self pity of the man she called her boyfriend, it reminded her too much of her father. “Why?” the sad man with his hands in his palms softly cried out. The woman begins confidently “We were at this party…” but gets interrupted by the man, now looking at her instead of his palms.
“No. Why did you lie?”
There it is again, “lie”. She didn’t lie, her dad was a liar and she is nothing like her dad. All she did was confiscate what actually happened slightly and that was so that he wouldn’t get hurt. It wasn’t like they had sex or anything, it was just a smooch, if even barely that. “It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

“Answer the question.”

“I didn’t lie.”

The man shakes his head, giving off a faint smile as if he can’t believe that someone would stand so firm on something this shaky. In his mind she is the captain standing on the deck of a sinking ship while saying the ship isn’t sinking. In her mind she is standing on flat solid ground.

Random word - Lie

250312

Slobodan planted the arch of his feet into the starting box. In roughly two minutes plus 10:37 seconds (10:32 on a good day) he would know if his dreams would become a reality. 10:37 would be the most likely outcome according to his coach’s estimate but like his couch usually said: “Estimates are just data based on previous measurements.” Either way, Slobodan would do anything in his power to crush 10:37 and maybe even 10:32. Only three of his competitors were able to run at that speed when they are at their best and the best of them was Otsuhaka from Japan. On a day that Otsuhaka would call a good day nobody could beat him. When Otsuhaka ran his best no other seventeen year old in the world could beat him. But that was Otsuhaka’s problem, it had to be his day. The biggest obstacle Otsuhaka had was that he was very inconsistent and the reason he was inconsistent was because he was always sprinting against everybody else. It might sound odd but that was Slobodan’s super power. Sure he wasn’t the most talented or naturally gifter sprinter, but what he did have was mental strength. No matter what happened Slobodan was only racing against himself, every race, every training session. Which meant that Slobodan never had any bad days working out or training. He never compared himself to anyone so fear of failure never crept in because he knew that as long as he did his best every time he could look himself in the mirror proudly. Otsuhaka on the other hand was his own worst critic in a bad way, always blaming himself when losing. So even with his incredible natural physique, talent and running form he would have many off days. Slobodan knew that sprinting wasn’t a spring, sprinting is a marathon. If you could increase your skills by one percent per day for a year you would be thirty seven times better than you were the previous year. The referee held up his gun into the air:
“On your mark. Get set.”
Slobodan closed his eyes, the calmness of preparation washed over him. This was his time to win over himself again, as he had done every day for his whole life.
“Go!”

The gun blasts a loud bang and the sprinters leap out of the start blocks like over cranked springs.

Random word - Arch