10/2/25

Thought of the day

It was one of those mornings when the rain hadn’t bothered to fall, but the air still felt heavy, like it knew something was wrong. 

The case hit my desk at 6:32 a.m.—a missing Danish. 

Not just any Danish, mind you. 

A Costco Danish. 

Large enough to feed a family, sweet enough to make a saint sin. 

Now it was gone. 

Vanished.

All that was left behind was an empty plastic container lying in the living room like a chalk outline on a crime scene.

Two suspects. 

Two dames with four legs apiece.

Ms. Frizzle: nine years old, yellow lab, the kind of gal who’d seen it all. 

Loyal to a fault, but with eyes that said she knew where the bodies - or at least the biscuits - were buried. Age had given her patience, but patience can break when pastries are involved.

Then there was Lucy: a three-year-old basset hound, low to the ground but high on mischief.

Young, impulsive, a real rookie in the racket. 

The kind who’d grab first and think later. 

If trouble had a name, it might just answer to Lucy.

The evidence? 

Thin as the plot at a cheap matinee. 

No crumbs, no frosting smears, no sticky paws leading to the getaway. 

Just that empty container, mocking me from the hardwood floor. 

I tailed the suspects on their morning walks, hoping nature’s call might reveal a clue.

Nothing. No cherries, no custard, no foul play in what they left behind. 

Clean breaks, both of them.

So here I am, stuck between a lab and a hound, no witnesses, no alibis, and a Danish that disappeared into the night like smoke in a jazz club. 

Somebody ate it. 

Somebody’s guilty. 

But in this town, innocence is just another costume, and guilt always smells like sugar.

Yeah, the case of the missing Danish was far from over. 

And until I cracked it, breakfast was gonna taste like betrayal.



P.S. As of 10:35 am, the case still hasn't been solved. 


Thank you for stopping by, and I'll talk to you soon.

I will persevere.
I will keep moving forward.
I will be the stream.