Taken to the station
Mark was confronted by a detective who looked stern in the cold, sterile interrogation room. The room was dimly illuminated, with only one overhead light casting long and dark shadows. Mark was drilled relentlessly by the detective with his years of experience on display. “Where did that object come from?” Why was it buried under your garden? He demanded, unwavering in his gaze.
Mark, desperate to be believed by his audience, told the whole story about the mysterious email and the previous owner. The detective dismissed the explanation with a dismissive hand gesture. He said in a final tone, “That story will not hold up son.” Mark felt a sense of desolation as the hours passed and the walls closed in around him. No one seemed to want to hear or believe Mark’s story.
