Shattered StreetlampThe glass from the lamp shatters; there is a tinkling crescendo as the thousands of pieces fall to the ground. The light flickers and goes dim before dying completely. He can still see—the light from the other lamps around him still shine, but it is barely enough for him to look around. He bends down and picks up the rock, weighing it in his hand. He contemplates whether to do it again.“What are you doing?”He starts; looking around him frantically, he sees the silhouette of an older man coming towards him. As he comes closer, his fear turns to contempt for whomever this was; no doubt he was going to get in trouble for this. “Fuck you, old man,” he mutters under his breath.“Excuse me?” The older man is closer now. Looking up, he recognizes the familiar face of his psychology professor. “I'm quite disappointed, Cliff.”Cliff's eyes widen. “Professor Trombley?”His eyebrows furrowed as the lined face continued to frown.
Doyle's SecretThe wails of sirens pierced the air as Doyle walked down the street. He looked up, watching idly as three police cars sped past him, going far past the speed limit that citizens were allowed to drive.The young man shrugged and put his earphone back in his ear, brushing aside his sandy blonde hair in order to insert the earpiece. He continued home through the maze of mostly grey, sleek buildings, taking the long, winding route through the city.Finally, he unplugged his earbuds as he walked up to the concrete steps of his building. Like most of the residential buildings in this part of town, the apartment building was several stories high and built of grey, bulletproof concrete. Doyle thought that the residential buildings were never very pretty to look at from the outside. Inside the complex was a different story, but the building planners definitely could have created the residentials look a little more family friendly. Nevertheless, the residentials served a purpose, like everything