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I was headed to work again, it was Friday, not to be confused with the weekend. These days it appeared like I strived everyday and most days at minimum 12 hours. I’m not gonna lie, I’m completely spent. I could hear my own thoughts, but it was as if I couldn’t or wouldn’t react.

wasted is the word I’m groping for, dazed. I knew I appeared edgy, but I was too tired to care and truthfully I was kind of floating from exhaustion and strangely I was enjoying it. It had been more than three weeks on this last case, and still no help. Yeah, I had somewhere around 7 or 8 other files I could be thinking about , but this one had me in its lock.

I was obsessed. Either way, the trip to work was a haze and all I remember was that crazy lady, Dolly was what they called her. I think her authentic name was Sharon. She always has that far off look in her eyes. Sad really. You can tell she was probably a great lady at one time. Now she follows a cart around and whispers as she gazes off into space. Tony would call any minute and yearn to know what the thought for the day is.

All I could think of was those oval braided rugs, covered in blood. There were covers right there and a blanket on the floor two feet away from the corpse. Why braided rugs? Were they already in the apartment? Did the killer bring them with him? There weren’t any other rugs in the apartment. They looked hand tailored. Pretty nice from what I could tell, except for the blood of course. Why braided rugs? Ring. Ring. Yep. Ok, listen I think those stupid rugs are the answer. Lets look more into those things and call Miss. Delgado about all the cases she had at the scene.