November 1, 2004 excerpt

Frank Fixton walked down the sidewalk, seemingly oblivious to the weather. His face expressed intensity as he scanned back and forth across the street. People darted past him, holding their briefcases over their heads and hurrying their children along, holding their hands tightly in their own.

The rain rolled down Frank’s navy blue uniform and occasionally a rain drop would tink off of the golden badge he wore on his left breast. His step quickened as he began to worry that his subject would evade him. Every movement caught his eye, but he was looking for that one particular movement. The one that was out of place in this already chaotic flurry of people scurrying every which way. He was not used to working in the rain. Although it was often cold in the city, the rain usually fell to the south in the plains before it was able to get to civilization. Apparently no one else was used to it either: Frank found himself whipping his head in every direction, trying to determine if the odd movement he saw out of the corner of his eye was the one he was looking for. But all was odd today. No one seemed to obey normal pedestrian rules in this unusual environment. A middle aged woman pushed two teenage kids aside in her mad dash to seek shelter. A man in an over coat, his face partially hidden by a scarf and a hat, jumped in the middle of traffic in his attempt to quickly cross the street. A boy of maybe four ran around in circles, his arms outstretched to the skies, as his father ran down the sidewalk towards him and his mother yelled at him from an apartment building two stories up to stop his foolishness and get his ass inside.

The rain picked up.

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