“Sit down,” said the police officer, I took a seat, facing the officer; I looked him directly in the eye. “You want a smoke?” he asked me. I declined politely. “How ‘bout coffee?” I shook my head; in fact my whole body was shaking at that point. We were in a cold interrogation room; it smelled of cigarettes and had a scent of cold, desperate sweat. There was a bright strobe light that shone onto the table in the middle of the room. It was like the eye of a hurricane, the light was the eye and all around us there was only darkness.
After a few minutes the officer rose out of his seat and started walking towards the door. While walking he said something like: “But anyhow, my shift is over, I’ll get someone to interrogate you. While I’m gone don’t do anything stupid, okay?” On his way out he turned off the lights.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I mumbled to myself. What moronic action could I possibly take? And why would I possibly try to do something? I was locked in a God-forsaken interrogation room. My only company in a room dark as a dungeon was a freaking air conditioner, which without any thought or purpose, blows air in repetitive circles and thus creates a nasty “Zzzzzz” sound.
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