The man at my front door wants to borrow a drill. Said he’s making signs and putting them up around town. His son’s gone missing. Three days now. Wonders if I might have seen him.
I know what he’s really doing here though, what he’s thinking. Not my first time.
I’m the new guy in town. The stranger in an otherwise close-knit neighborhood. Suspect number one.
“Sure, no problem,” I tell him. “Got one in the garage.”
I always keep tools in the garage, never the basement. That would be foolish. The basement’s for chaining up missing children after all.
The Weekday One Hundred 