If your soul could be a sound, what sound would it be?
“Leonard E. Night, age 27, lives alone in a basement, works in a corporate office downtown… been missing for, what, two weeks? No one had a clue. Odd, isn’t it?”
They reach the door of a small bungalow, hidden deep in slightly malnourished suburbia. Broken tricycles and cigarette stubs litter the street like a wasteland of forgotten dreams: families made of mistakes and last minute weddings. My muse.
They knock on the door three times. There is a patter of footsteps echoed by shrill pleas, and chants of my name. Silence.
The door finally bursts open to a reveal a wiry, ill-tempered mother with a rather unpleasant baby in her arms.
“Can I help you?” she asks with a false, toothy smile. A little girl appears behind the woman’s legs, her eyes brimming.
“I’m Officer Peach with the North York Regional Police; this is my partner, Officer Payne. You called about a missing person?”