Watching from Above

Hello

I'm a straight forward man, my names William Arnold, I'm 67, and to be honest I the best gon darned police man in Talik, a small town ( not a real town ) in Canada. I have round glasses and a mustache and I have a good ol' attitude. I investigate, solve, basically control the law in our little town, while I seem to be boasting now, I count myself humble.

March 10, 2010
I was walking down the street, not hurting a fly, taking a stroll to stretch my sore muscles and weary bones. Walking behind me is a man, your everyday, average, day-by-day man you would see walking down the nicely paved path by the melting lake when grass and flowers are starting to grow and where birds sing their song of spring. This average man, let's call him Jerry, would be, like I said average. In any other town. In Talik, everyone knows the other, neighbors know each other like family, Christmas is a time for giving the whole town baked goods and those pencils that have snowmen on them that you end up using in the summer. Thanksgiving is when you haver round in the Town Lodge, and see everyone of your neighbors, the Birch Family, the Archs, the Wells, the Hallens, ect. This man, Jerry, was dressed in torn jeans and dark hoodie, he was hunched and looking like he was in a hurry. This was unusual in our little town. Of course at the time, I didn't pay attention to this. I decided to make my way towards the woods, visit the old tree where I carved my name when I was... Around 20? My memory hasn't fared as well as... Well, let's just say my memory hasn't fared well. Just as I was on the small trail, well into the woods, I realized that 'Jerry' was still following, this was suspicious, my hand stayed positioned on my pistol, but It was too late, a bullet, or something hit me clean, there was almost no pain. I didn't get to see where then took me, or more like my body as my spirit drifter into the unknown.