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The radio crackled throughout the patrol car as Bill sat there listening, waiting for a call. Sitting in his patrol car, he sat and observed traffic passing by like so many lemmings. He often wondered to himself and even made up stories about each individual car, where they were going to or coming from. The little yellow beatup van occupied by a family: were they traveling to their vacation spot in Florida or were they four individuals together for the purpose of picking up a load of contraband in Miami? Were they what they seemed or was it something unspeakable?
These sights were not unfamiliar to Bill, he'd seen a lot of things that from outward appearance seemed quite normal', however, a closer look revealed something entirely different. So different, at times, it would often cause him to shake his head in disbelief or invariably; disgust. He learned through experience and classroom training how to read' vehicles, and to read' the occupants behavior; picking out suspected illegal activities through watching the driver and occupants actions as they passed by. Doing this with vehicles passing by at speeds of 70MPH and greater was no small feat. It required a keen eye and an in-depth knowledge of traffic laws and human behavior. Often times based on this initial observation, he would decide to initiate a traffic stop. Based on a traffic violation, he would stop the vehicle and begin a low-key investigation of the vehicle and it's occupants. Through minimally invasive questions to the driver and passengers, he would uncover many unlawful acts; without that person ever realizing that they had been the subject of an investigation.
This night was to be like no other night he had experienced in his five years of law enforcement experience: not at all. He had just returned from his fathers funeral and was in no mood for anything. In fact, the vehicles that would pass by held no interest for him. His mood was somber, reflecting on the events of the past week; the heartbreak surrounding the sudden loss of his father, the subsequent arguments surrounding arrangements for the burial, and other emotions that tend to dominate a funeral. Nope, Bill was not interested in even sitting in that patrol car or any patrol car on that night.
He watched the traffic flow by into the wee hours of the morning, trying to re-focus his thoughts on the task-at-hand; busting dopers. It was no use, thoughts of his father, the funeral, and the fallout kept resounding through his mind.
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