Spoiler-Free Prompt Post
THE MEME NEEDS ARCHIVISTS!
GUIDELINES
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“If she was a drug addict, she would be snorting cocaine like her superiors.”
“Right, obviously.”
“Clearly not obvious enough for you, Anderson, and why are you still in the room?”
I wish the voice I used to have could still scream at them for me.
“Right then, now to the interesting part.”
What?
“Do you see this? These aren’t her shoes. They’re the same size, but these are far too uncomfortable and the heel is far too high for an office worker. At least, for an office worker who keeps her hair back, doesn’t wear much makeup and has a blouse that doesn’t display her cleavage. Not to mention too expensive - her clothes are from Marks and Spencer’s so why is she wearing designer label shoes? Which, by the way, almost completely invalidates the idea that she is currently an addict. Her hands have been cleaned, too - the only dust is from where they’ve rested on the floor, which is remarkable considering it’s all over the rest of her. And, if we check her tights - ah. There you are.”
The pattern is listening, listening to me! If I could move I would point out the rest of what I am trying to tell him - yet if I could move, I would be more than a memory, and would speak with a different voice.
“What? There’s what?”
“Blood. Or at least, little spatters of something red and dried, and considering we have a murderer who has given her new shoes for no apparent reason, we can probably assume that Miss Immigrations here managed to injure her attacker badly enough to get blood on both her shoes and hands. So that should be perfectly obvious now, no need to thank me.”
What is left of me understands what this pattern does not - he has translated the words but not the meaning of them. The vanished pattern’s last moments are important to me. They are what made me.
“I wasn’t planning to. You haven’t actually told me anything.”
“Do you need me provide my explanation all tied up with a pretty little bow?
“A little more actual explaining will do.”
Let the pattern translate. Let my meaning be clear. Once there was faith, and it is gone, but the faintest of memories remains.
Barely.
“Hmm. Well, those shoes cost over four hundred pounds and the designer is only sold in three stores in London, only one of which is a chain. From the looks of them they can’t be more than four months old. Find out who has bought a pair of those shoes in the last few months, couple that with the injury, which was on the underside of the arm if I’m any judge, and you’ll find your suspect list greatly reduced. And that is all without taking into account the fact that the briefcase is missing. I love it when they make mistakes.”
The pattern spoke for me.
“And what was their mistake?”
“Not taking me into account, of course. Come along John.”
Glee, delight, gratitude, joy - all gone, yes, but the memory remains.
EXTRA:
“Should I be concerned or supportive about your extensive knowledge of women’s shoes?”
“Shut up, John.”
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