Alec
The inky blackness of the night sky enveloped us as we repeated the same story over and over again to the human authorities. I never understood humans, especially their police. My father had insisted we call them, although Ricky’s death was anything but natural. Anyone could see that, but my father has always been a noble man, so there was never much choice in the matter. So, here we were, once again telling Barney Fife the story of how we were wandering by and saw the 'mugging' and heard the cries for help.
“So, walk me through it again. The young man…” the officer said, yet again. My patience had long since evaporated, and I was barely hanging on to my temper as it was. When the overweight man wanted an encore of the very thing we had just reiterated a dozen times, I lost it.
“
