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A Short Story : A Story?

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Moving around in the chair as if trying to get comfortable, Raymond asked, “What are you saying? Why am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“A woman saw you leave a murdered woman’s house.”
“If that’s what is going on here, you’re wrong. I might be homeless and need a shower, but I’m not a murderer,” Raymond said, trying to stand up to leave.
“Just relax, my friend,” Detective Wallace said, looking at his watch as he waited for his partner.
After several minutes, Defective Johnson entered the office, handing the file to his partner, he said, “The prints match.” Looking through the file for several before Detective Wallace spoke to Raymond, “I want you to settle down and answer some questions.”
“Yes, Sir,” he answered, sitting back on the chair. “Two weeks ago, a woman saw you running from a house about 7 o’clock in the morning, she has described you, even your ski cap,” Detective Wallace said and asked. “Do you remember it?”
“Well, kind of,” Raymond said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Tell me about it, remember we have an eyewitness. Is it necessary for her to identify you?” The detective asked. “That won’t be necessary, I remember it,” he said, shaking his head. “One night, I slept down by the river I woke up hungry enough to eat a bear and went looking for some food. After checking several houses, I found an open door, went inside, looked around until I found the kitchen. I took some food from the refrigerator and left without touching anything else. You can believe it or

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