THE ALIBI'S REPORT

The sharp rays of the sunlight cut into the room from the cracked window pane. It smelled morbid in here. Or maybe it was just his panic attacks setting in.

He hated to be in cramped spaces. The doctors had diagnosed him as being claustrophobic but he'd refused to accept a simple statement written on a piece of paper as his sentence for life.

So, against the protests of his body, he'd gone ahead and trained himself to get used to being in cramped spaces and not get all worked up about it. And for a long time, he thought he'd succeeded, until now.

The detective had led him through a narrow hallway that burst into a single office at the end of the hallway. She opened the door and let him in. Then, she excused herself for a while, leaving him alone to himself.

So many thoughts scattered through his mind as he awaited her return. Was she going to arrest him? Was that what this was? Was she keeping him here so that at the end of the day, she'd bring handcuffs and put them on his wrist?

Sur