The Case of the Missing Furniture

The Case of the Missing Furniture

Chapter I

Thursday morning I think I awoke from what I thought was a dream; doors banging open and shut echoed throughout the house/the four walls devoid of shadows looked strange and naked.  The outlets seemed bored without their plugs.

I knocked on every door and looked inside. Nothing!

Was it a dream?

Chapter 2

That morning I drank my coffee on the porch the yellow sun on my feet my face in shadow, before realizing every stick of furniture had disappeared!

I called the police!

Chapter 3

Two cops told me, “Something has to be missing for two days before it’s missing.”

“But what if its all on a big semi headed for North Carolina or down by the Swale River holding the asses of some homeless people drinking their muscatel, red stains all over on the arms?’’ I replied.

They left in a huff shouting,  “Homeless people are out of our jurisdiction!”

Chapter 4

Hmmm … I remembered seeing the E.M.T. people around.  Maybe they were in disguise that day?

Shit!  Then I remembered!  The E.M.T.’s had visited my house at least ten days prior.

(They told me I was having an anxiety attack.  I wouldn’t tell them my chair was a giant hand threatening to pull me into some abscess below the foundation of the house.  I hid my feelings but, what a ridiculous thought!  I live on a cement slab!!)

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Chapter 5

A while later I said good bye despite her offer to tell me everything she knew.

“I’m perfectly happy,” I said, “wondering what happened. I don’t need to know any answers.”

I left.

Chapter 6

I stuck out my thumb.  Houses and bison sped by for quite some time.

Chapter 7

Whew!  Finally,  it seemed I had arrived. 

The driver .. an attractive 30’s something police officer her auburn colored hair pulled back so tightly it seemed her eyebrows were in suspended animation (giving her a look of constant wide eyed wonder), wearing a green uniform, a gold badge attached to her breast pocket .. told me her name was Devereaux. 

She opened the door.  I stepped inside.

“So, where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said turning her head back toward where I sat, a smile of wide eyed wonder on at least half of her face.

“Well yes,” I said indignantly.  Then, “Does this have anything to do with my missing furniture?”

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