I chose the prompt: "Looking at Paris in this light..."
Looking at Paris in this light, Adkins could almost forgive the rookie his dumb mistake. Almost.
Like the flashes of amber waxing and waning over them from atop the ambulance, Lieutenant Michael Adkins alternated between looking at the shape of his mangled partner on the stretcher and out into the fog-drenched darkness of Seabridge Avenue. Too terrible to look at and too terrible to ignore, Mike's reflexes kept snapping his attention to Jimmy's face and just as quickly away.
On the stretcher, Officer James 'Paris' Frenchy, lay unconcious and bleeding. His badge dangled from his uniform and his left eye socket was empty.
Adkins sighed heavily into the thick night air. Tonight's shift already felt a year and a half long and he hadn't even begun the paperwork. So much paperwork, and tonight, it would all fall to him, obviously.
Whether Paris pulled through or not two things were certain: tough conversations must be had, either with Frenchy or his sweet young bride and paperwork was still the piper who would be paid.
Adkins mindlessly pulled the pen from his shirt pocket and, turning toward the open ambulance doors, gave it a decided click.
It was time to take names.