Tim Driscoll’s story, centered around the Buffalo Central Terminal, was a runner up in the Buffalo News short fiction contest.
I drove my Crown Vic down Fillmore Avenue. Winter in Buffalo. Things were quiet. Fillmore was lightly peopled, everyone behaving. Salty cracks veined the street’s asphalt surface, parallel to the curb. An old cop once told me the cracks were from buried trolley tracks. The crackle of the department radio broke the silence.
“Dispatch to Detective Devoe, what’s your 10-20?”
I grabbed the mic, “Devoe north on Fillmore at Broadway.”
“Proceed to Central Train Terminal Memorial Drive, breaking and entering reported.”
“Copy that, Devoe enroute.”
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