The color irritated Malcolm. Since when had the flashers on patrol cars changed from red to blue? He had no preference for one shade over the other, but interference with established patterns was never good.
He sighed. For the first time in eight years, he’d be late for work. He hit the button to lower the window, and noted he still smelled of lilacs. A second shower was in order, even if the officer changed the flat for him.
The latest darling to endure his idiosyncrasies had smiled with kindness when he’d requested to supervise her bathing before and after. She’d smelled quite pretty, been so anxious to please, understood his need to avoid her lips—he’d agreed to spend the night.
Of course he hadn’t planned on counting the minutes ticking from midnight to 2:46 AM as they shared the hotel room table, quizzing from Gray’s Anatomy. A second year med student, she hoped for a brighter future. Her step to hug her mentor when he attempted his exit, her smile encouraging him to drop a kiss on her forehead, remained a pattern he’d like to see broken.
Depressing. None of his well paid sweethearts allowed him to slink out like a john should. After one or two visits, attachments formed. Next month he’d request a different woman.
The police car crunched to a stop behind him, and he raised his eyes to the horizon of another dazzling day.
What a bizarre light—
His brain flat-lined and Malcolm collapsed.