Excerpt from Chapter One, Shattered Lens: Catherine Winter, Private Investigator
She hesitantly crossed the room, lowered herself onto the chair, and replied, "Lucy Albright, but I don't think I'm at the right place."
"Oh?"
Her cheeks colored. "I mean this is the place I wanted, but, you know, I mean you probably can't handle my case."
"I haven't seen many I've turned away from in thirty some years in the business," I replied.
"Uh...." She lowered her eyes to her lap and twisted the emerald ring on her right hand. Without returning her gaze to mine, she added, "That's what I mean."
"What is what you mean?" I inquired.
She looked up and color returned to her cheeks as she said, "Well, I thought my case needs someone a little, um, younger to handle it. You seem older. Well, I mean, you know."
Sure, I knew exactly what she meant. I had heard it often. Some people believe when you turn sixty you belong in a rocking chair on the porch of an old folks’ home, bored and dispassionately awaiting the arrival of your monthly retirement check. Let me tell you that you'll never find me doing that. When it is time for me to go out to pasture, it ain't gonna be that way.
"Oh?"
Her cheeks colored. "I mean this is the place I wanted, but, you know, I mean you probably can't handle my case."
"I haven't seen many I've turned away from in thirty some years in the business," I replied.
"Uh...." She lowered her eyes to her lap and twisted the emerald ring on her right hand. Without returning her gaze to mine, she added, "That's what I mean."
"What is what you mean?" I inquired.
She looked up and color returned to her cheeks as she said, "Well, I thought my case needs someone a little, um, younger to handle it. You seem older. Well, I mean, you know."
Sure, I knew exactly what she meant. I had heard it often. Some people believe when you turn sixty you belong in a rocking chair on the porch of an old folks’ home, bored and dispassionately awaiting the arrival of your monthly retirement check. Let me tell you that you'll never find me doing that. When it is time for me to go out to pasture, it ain't gonna be that way.
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4 comments:
Great excerpt! I'm not close to 60 (but close to the 'wrong' side of 39. I say never settle for the rocking chair; instead, attach roller blades to it and rock on!!
Thanks, MadTexter.
The way time flies, keep those rollar blades sharpened and handy and roll with the flow!
Hope Santa brings you your chair for Christmas. Very unique, huh?
Interesting opening....Does make me want to read more. Congratulations again on writing this book AND on getting it published!
Hey - Stop by my blog to pick up an award I have for you!
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