The locker room was the oasis of calm before a shift started and the relief of finishing one. It enabled a definitive beginning and end to working on the ambulance and was the only constant in the chaos of emergency ambulance work. Standing to attention were the greyless metal lockers decorated with solidarity stickers of the only ambulance strike to ever take place, the raised fist bleeding from clutching a perfectly smooth oxygen cylinder always seemed incongruous with the amount of blood it caused to the hand but was required for the motto underneath, ‘Freedom from the oppressive capitalist system with our revolutionary blood. Strike! Strike! Strike!’ Wyse’s locker was the only one not to have any stickers on it and still shone as if had been newly unwrapped, even though he too had proudly stood on the picket line but that was a different time.
In the middle of the room was the never used ping pong table with net still in situ and the faithful, the paramedics who hadn't laughed when he had first talked of his dream and for a few moments this morning he had lived that dream. To discover and solve a seemingly impossible murder case by using his logical deductive mind, the dream though now resembled nothing more than a nightmare he couldn’t awake from.
Wyse sighed and encompassed the brave souls around the ping pong table, those who had trusted him to guide them on such an experience.
The Purple Plus Amateur Detective Society.
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