By Patti Pietschmann
Excerpt from World of Hurt by Richard Pietschmann
Minutes later he pulled to a stop behind several patrol cars with their doors left wide open and took in the mesmerizing calamity spread over the intersection. He slowly got out and marveled at the breathtaking thrill that true bedlam aroused. The pavement was alive with flames, flashing lights, billowing smoke and the shouting of adrenalin-stoked voices that flimsy crime scene tape had no chance to contain. He tried to push the excitement from his head, but the juice of it was just too powerful.
Badge held out in front, he ran toward the pandemonium and saw a uniform he recognized.
He slowed to a walk and calmed himself.
“Nice morning, officer.”
The cop took a beat to respond, eyes focused on the scene in front of her
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