A hand reached across the desk, taking hold of a framed light-painting, born from one of the latest devices of the great inventor Selsar. It was a portrait of her with her family.
It went into the box.
A small, round cup of polished brass, filled with ink pencils; yet another invention of Electrin Academy.
It went into the box.
Siracia’s hand next went to a stack of papers. Her case files. The armed robbery of Gabriel’s Mound. A domestic violence case. A murder in Coroner’s Crevice. Reports of missing ore from the Celorq mine inventory.
It all went into the box.
Lastly, the small red fastener with a hook that she used to bind her files together.
Into the box, it went.
Siracia sighed. She took her box of belongings and walked across the polished, grey basalt floor to the front of the precinct. She pushed the dull, heavy brass doors open, letting them swing shut behind her. The summer air outside was barely warm, even despite the full sunlight falling upon the metropolitan centre of Darkswell City.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Got everything, Siracia?” the capped security guard cheerily asked. “You’re out sooner than I expected.”
“Aren’t I the last out?” Siracia asked, noticing the security guard’s hands reaching towards the keys on his belt.
“You are, but here I was thinking that your departure would be waylaid for some secret sentimental reason; Perhaps the longings for one last impossible case for Crassia’s Greatest Detective… but I guess not. Perhaps you really are as improbably rational as the papers make you out to be.”
“I had hoped you would know me better than that Eugene.” Siracia replied to the taller man, whose large, bushy mustache twitched at the young detective’s remark.
“Gah! I’m just pulling your pipe. Did you forget anything?”
“No. I didn’t forget anything. Thank you, Eugene.”
“Alright then.”
Metal clinked and clanked as Eugene locked the door, and then threaded a heavy chain through the burnished metal door handles to the precinct, clipping them shut with a heavy padlock.
Siracia took in the sight of the bright blue sky, a sight she had been seeing all too much recently, what with zero cases coming to her desk over the past three months… or to the policing department of Darkswell City for that matter. Several balloon-powered vessels could be seen floating through the sky, making their way to a waiting dock in the towering, tarnished metal airport to the north.
“Well. I’ll miss seeing ya face.” Eugene muttered sadly.
“Me too.” Siracia agreed, her mind already in the distance.
“What are you going to do now? Out of work, and very few places left for your type of work experience. Maybe you could work as a pet-tracker for hire? Find lost dolphins or something. I hear there’s a black market for those things.”
“I think I’ll pass...” Siracia heaved a sigh, “Yeah. I think it's probably time for a well-deserved vacation.”