A Crime of Passion (or Not)

Shards of glass, strewn everywhere, scattered beneath the moonlit sky
Brown footprints appear to dot the windowsill – a clear sign of forced entry perhaps
Inside, chaos ensues
Tossed memories, loose leaf dreams, lots of questions
The glass appears to have been broken from the inside… and out…
That’s odd
The papers strewn everywhere seem like there was a struggle of some sort, but it could have been internal
It could have been self made
And yet, no one is home, just a frightened cat, maybe the source of the paw prints
Where’s the homeowner?
A canvass of the area shows footprints leading into the woods
Inside, more clues… crumpled up paper in the trash, the pages filled with illegible writing and scribbles
Maybe harm, maybe harmless – scene and source unknown
A walk into the woods follows the footprints to a clearing in the trees where there is a road to nowhere
Could the suspect have fetched a ride and better yet, again, where is the homeowner
A walk into the woods follows the footprints to a clearing in the trees where there is a road to nowhere important
Could the suspect have hitched a ride and better yet, the homeowner. Location unknown
A jogger passing by confirms she saw one lone mad man jump into a Taurus and head East, yelling something about a coffee shop
We head East for answers
The coffee shop is filled with early Saturday, pre-dawn, revelers, busy for the hour at hand
We must interview them all
When we finish our discussions, we have but one customer left. A balding man in his 40s, leaving a restroom and looking flustered
Upon questioning, we learn he’s a writer and on a deadline. Suffering a days long writers’ block, the commotion ensued at home
And there we have it, no break-in, just no sense of break through
The cat…. he was the source of the footprints on the sill. He spilled coffee on the only idea the man had had in days.

Case closed.