
Photo Prompt © Roger Bultot
“It’s covering its eyes.”
“Say what?” Sergeant Frank was always gruff but Leon knew a warning when he heard it. He could (almost) visualize his superior in his boxer-shorts, remote in one hand and beer in the other. One did not get between the Sergeant and his beer.
“The new statue, Sir. In Rockefeller. It’s covering its eyes.”
“Leon, are you drunk?!”
“No, Sir. The hotdog man saw it, too. And a bystander.”
“Statues don’t move, Leon. That’s why they’re called statues.”
“This one did, Sir.”
Silence.
“Sir?”
Sigh. “I’m sending Marco. Meanwhile, Leon … sit tight and … do not engage …”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
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