Good Luck: Episode Nineteen
walked to the postal box, across
from the liquor store, and the bank.
At the box I saw egg shells
on the concrete, and thought
“I’m no Inspector Clouseau
but it appears that someone
ate a hard boiled egg here
between the hours of 3am
and now, which is precisely 11:18 am”
and a voice, my own, asked
“Inspector, how can you be sure?”
and I answered, “It’s simple,
there are no raindrops within
the cup of those broken egg shells.
The killer must have peeled
and eaten the eggs after
the rain stopped.” “Killer?”
“Well yes, this is certainly
the deranged handiwork of a killer.”
I slipped your letter in the box.