No one ever tells you how boring a stake-out is. It’s nothing like the movies show you. TV doesn’t even come close. You sit in the dark, sipping on whatever beverage you can to keep yourself awake, silently praying that something, anything, will happen to break the monotony.
I think out of all of the problems I have, though, being lonely is the thing that bothers me the most. You would think that I wouldn’t have an issue with it, that I would find some kind of solace in it, but nope. It just deepens the sense of night, drawing me into a depression that can only be broken by a strong drink or some extreme action.
I think I’m broken. But, it’s a job, right?
Filed under: Micro Fiction Tagged: TWW
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