sianmatthews

The bend in the river

When people learn I used to be a private investigator specializing in criminal work, they often get excited and ask, “What was that like?” I usually tell them, “It was just a job; you talk to people, ask nosy questions, it could be pretty dull.”

And that’s true; it could be pretty dull. What I don’t tell them is that there’s something darkly seductive about being on the street late at night, when good and decent people are safe at home, tucked into bed. There’s something strangely exhilarating about being out alone, in the darkness, on a mission, looking for a witness, trying to find answers, sometimes just trying to find the right questions.

Looking at this bend in the river brings it back. The little flutter in the pit of my stomach, the small vibrating node of excitement, the quiver of suppressed fear, the shudder of uncertainty because you never knew quite where you were going or what you’d find when you got there, and the weird pleasure in the belief you could probably handle it. Probably.  That probably is important. It perversely contributes to the experience. Without that probably, it was just a job. Talk to people. Ask nosy questions. Pretty dull.

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