The wind was blowing fast, and the detective was out of breath as he rounded the corner in the dark alley way. The summer mugginess was getting to him as he lost control of his footing on the wet gravel and slid to a stop. Scratched, exhausted, and wheezing he figured this one was better left to police.
When there’s nobody else who knows the scoop, give me a call. I’ve been getting into business that isn’t mine since my younger years, where I’d spend my sick days going through Mom’s belongings and extrapolating a sordid story from her nylons.
He looked through his magnifying glass at the small tiny insect that was crawling across the cement sidewalk. The investigator had never seen this specific creature before and he was fascinated by the way it walked, the colors it presented on its hard shell. He was on the forefront of a new discovery and he knew that this was going to be his big moment. He had to make it count.
I am an investigator, the moon and those lucky charms i ate last night were not a good idea, i had the shittest journey,being stuck on a train for an hr, meaning i had to miss the underground and also the bus to the destination i needed to get, meaning i missed work, then eveything at home was a tornado and i just wanted to stare into space but i was being attacked, what have i done as pat of the universe to deserve more than 3 times, on top of all this my laptop was just being an idiot but i worked it all out now and eveything is fine and dandy apart from my head, to me as an investigator of myself and my surroundings that make me i see the world is full of hate, humans are full of rage, anger , but there is good out there, things are contagious, negativity is contagious and so is positivity so once you don’t let things get to you and be strong like the moon, your eyes will open to the beauty of yourself in an unselfish way, it is a respectable way, everyone is brought down and up again. When the moon is full it gleams at you meaning you are gleaming at yourself intensely. Remember to breathe we are worth no more or less than anything else that surrounds us as we are just that..good afternoon <3
He walked in with a brown over coat and fedora. The office was smoky and smelled of perfume. He was going to find answers- he was going to find Flora. She had been his obsession over the past year. Flora was out there. He knew it.
He shrugged his shoulder, trying to relieve some of the tension seeping in from the case. He could hear his partner in the next room doing fine police work. Grateful for the dark doorway, he paused and tried to compose himself. Another dead child, another screwed up family. As a twenty year veteran, it wasn’t supposed to get to him. But the tears came anyway.
the investigator suspected something but recently learned not to trust himself. he surprised himself in ways he knew incapable and now nothing was the same. eveything questionable, tilted, not quite right. what he suspected was far less than what he knew
the investigator was once walking down the street. As he was thinking about solving this case he had onhim. He thought to himself looking at the moon that do werewolves exist? he couldnt answer this question, not yet atleast.
He called himself the investigator. He liked to investigate everything. One day at his grandparents house he found a cupboard in an unused room. Upon looking inside he saw hundreds of spiders. He became hot and sweaty and decided investigating wasn’t for him.
I investigated today the difference between fruits and vegetables. do you know that pumpkin and cucumber are fruits? i think is quite weird. #yourinspectorgadget.com
Wanting to know the details, because it’s in the details that you see the patterns, and the patterns tell you what is at the heart of the thing you’re investingating, after that you can look at the machinery behind the patterns, the reason why, the calming affect of how.
Investigator
noun
A person who carries out a formal inquiry or investigation.
“Accident investigators are at the crash site.”
synonyms: inspector, examiner, enquirer, explorer, analyzer
The investigator was investigating in our house for any traces of finger prints since last nights brake in.
The investigator pulls up in black, shiny Mercedes. Vintage, of course. He has always had a taste for the finer things in life. He rolled down the window and peered at me from behind his darkly tinted sunglasses. “Get in,” he commanded brusquely, his voice gritty with cigar smoke.
Every so often you need an investigator. Someone to help you put together the pieces, someone to make you see the glue between the cracks. Someone who won’t sugar coat your eyes and spin lies. Someone with a soft touch and a tender heart. Someone who wants to light up your world.
I paced the room with my arms folded. My fingernails had made crescents in my skin. The knock at the door jolted me like three thousand volts, and I fumbled at the latch for so long I thought my clumsy fingers would never figure out the clasp. I pulled the door open as I tried to steady my face into the semblance of a smile.
He stood there as I thought he would, tall and middle-aged and serious and dark suited. He smiled a thin smile, tipped his head, said, “Morning Ma’am, mind if I come in?” and strode inside without pausing for my answer.
I closed the door with trembling hands and turned to join him.
A man walks into the room that was covered in blood. He asked the lead investigator what had happened and he said,” another superhero from the golden age has been killed. Third one this week alone.”
“So, what do you think?”
The man deeply sighed. “I’ll be honest with you. I think that all of this is nuts and that she’s just some sort of cult kid with a kind smile..but I know I don’t believe any of that even for a second. She’s not..human. At least, not anymore.”
Investigated the inside of my body
without beginning to look inside my mind
never questioning or searching
just went right inside
no question
or feeling
no look of believing
no trust or compassion
just none stop action
i need more
i’m sorry
you’re more than I’ll carry
Highly skilled investigator, eyes to see the core. Right and wrong, mean nothing when intentions are pure. Or so he liked to believe, the truth unfolds. The deed has been done, a son has been lost and a man has lost his right to see the sun.
When I think of the word investigator, I am reminded of Sherlock Holmes for some reason. Perhaps, it is because I cling to the happy memories of my childhood for dear life sometimes, because things seemed much less complicated and easier back then. This is completely unrelated though. Oh well.
She peered around the corner and saw her friend. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing: her friend, acting very much like someone other than her friend. To say the very least, it was disturbing.
She’d hired the private investigator to find her son’s murderer. She expected complete efficiency. She expected complete thoroughness. She did not expect to be followed into work the next morning.
You search for clues, read your correspondences over and over, reconsidering word choice and trying to determine what that particular verb or noun is actually implying. You don’t trust them. You’re convinced they have an ulterior motive, and you don’t want to be caught off-guard.
The investigator quickly identified a possible cause for the dingus magically appearing. She took out her telescope and pointed it at the fossil evidence and realized it was prehistoric, and proceeded to extract it from the phospholipid bilayer. It took her 10 years to do that. Which by that time, she was already in her 90’s.
I think of the little things that slay you. Maybe an unclasped hand, or a forgotten heart. But when I really wrap my mind around it, it’s unchecked words or something else that gets to them.
I see it all end the same way so often. But it never really lays the same in my hand, when it’s the end of the day, the locker slams, and it echoes because there is no one soft to absorb the sound.
I can take another step, another step, and find myself nowhere. I end in contradictions right where I started. I would give anything for some sort of tell-tale heart.
there was a man who wore a hat and he took extra care to examine the things around him in the world. A tiny speck of dust was an a piece of unihanbited land that blew away and he wanted to know where it came from and where it was going to go. His attention held shortly for the next object he saw was more interesting than the last.
Looking. Seeing? Never seeing. Looking, never finding, I can’t find you. The clock ticks in my ears, I hear nothing but time passing. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Stop.
Looking. There is nothing. There is passing days. There is time ticking, ticking, ticking. There is no me. There is no you. Looking. Never finding.
The clock was ticking. The one that did this would surely be finding their way out as soon as possible. His mind whirled. What would they do? How would he find the person that he’d been on a mission to apprehend for, literally, years.
He stopped and glanced curiously at the ruined wall to his right. It had been torn to shreds. By the looks of the long gashes and punctures, the damage had been done by a jagged knife.
She wanted to know it all. Hubris made her think she had the right. To be god. Is that wrong? Or is that what we all should strive for. Private investigators of the universe. . with Hubble telescopes and magnifying glasses. There are answers to every question.
Investigator what are you looking for? Will the answers you find be the one you were looking for or a disbelief? How does one go about investigating? Can i be one too? I want to investigate and find find answers. But i’m scared for the outcome that comes before me. Am i up for it, am i smart enough. I won’t give up. I’ll prove i can do this. This is what i want to do.
An investigator was already at the scene when I arrived, her gloved finger suspended in the air as she seemed to trace out some sort of imaginary scenario emerging from the ether of her mind. As for me, I went straight to work. I started snapping pictures, first of the corner where the couch cushions were bloodied, then of the carpet, which looked more than just a little seedy. Something had definitely happened here, but there was no body to be found.
He looked up at the ceiling fan. It was a tough case, yeah, but not the toughest. There had been a time when he had been a scared kid of 28 searching for the answers in a nest of thieves as thick as mayonaise. The fan turned as if in some viscous fluid.
He or she researches into things, trying to find out more about it. They are hired to look into things. You can hire one to find a long lost mother that disappeared, or to investigate what happened in a certain situation, such as a murder.
She walked into the man’s office, unsure of what will actually happen. The investigator was sitting in his spiny chair behind his desk; the spitting image of a classical Sherlock Holmes – hat, pipe, and all. She looked at him a bit strangely before taking a seat in the empty chair in front of her. Time to finally shake off her “admirer”.
The wind was blowing fast, and the detective was out of breath as he rounded the corner in the dark alley way. The summer mugginess was getting to him as he lost control of his footing on the wet gravel and slid to a stop. Scratched, exhausted, and wheezing he figured this one was better left to police.
When there’s nobody else who knows the scoop, give me a call. I’ve been getting into business that isn’t mine since my younger years, where I’d spend my sick days going through Mom’s belongings and extrapolating a sordid story from her nylons.
He looked through his magnifying glass at the small tiny insect that was crawling across the cement sidewalk. The investigator had never seen this specific creature before and he was fascinated by the way it walked, the colors it presented on its hard shell. He was on the forefront of a new discovery and he knew that this was going to be his big moment. He had to make it count.
I am an investigator, the moon and those lucky charms i ate last night were not a good idea, i had the shittest journey,being stuck on a train for an hr, meaning i had to miss the underground and also the bus to the destination i needed to get, meaning i missed work, then eveything at home was a tornado and i just wanted to stare into space but i was being attacked, what have i done as pat of the universe to deserve more than 3 times, on top of all this my laptop was just being an idiot but i worked it all out now and eveything is fine and dandy apart from my head, to me as an investigator of myself and my surroundings that make me i see the world is full of hate, humans are full of rage, anger , but there is good out there, things are contagious, negativity is contagious and so is positivity so once you don’t let things get to you and be strong like the moon, your eyes will open to the beauty of yourself in an unselfish way, it is a respectable way, everyone is brought down and up again. When the moon is full it gleams at you meaning you are gleaming at yourself intensely. Remember to breathe we are worth no more or less than anything else that surrounds us as we are just that..good afternoon <3
He walked in with a brown over coat and fedora. The office was smoky and smelled of perfume. He was going to find answers- he was going to find Flora. She had been his obsession over the past year. Flora was out there. He knew it.
He shrugged his shoulder, trying to relieve some of the tension seeping in from the case. He could hear his partner in the next room doing fine police work. Grateful for the dark doorway, he paused and tried to compose himself. Another dead child, another screwed up family. As a twenty year veteran, it wasn’t supposed to get to him. But the tears came anyway.
the investigator suspected something but recently learned not to trust himself. he surprised himself in ways he knew incapable and now nothing was the same. eveything questionable, tilted, not quite right. what he suspected was far less than what he knew
Detective Foyle…a time of war and beet-juice lipstick.
How he lives in the fields of my Hastings imagination
with a stiff drink or lip
the investigator was once walking down the street. As he was thinking about solving this case he had onhim. He thought to himself looking at the moon that do werewolves exist? he couldnt answer this question, not yet atleast.
He called himself the investigator. He liked to investigate everything. One day at his grandparents house he found a cupboard in an unused room. Upon looking inside he saw hundreds of spiders. He became hot and sweaty and decided investigating wasn’t for him.
I investigated today the difference between fruits and vegetables. do you know that pumpkin and cucumber are fruits? i think is quite weird. #yourinspectorgadget.com
Wanting to know the details, because it’s in the details that you see the patterns, and the patterns tell you what is at the heart of the thing you’re investingating, after that you can look at the machinery behind the patterns, the reason why, the calming affect of how.
Investigator
noun
A person who carries out a formal inquiry or investigation.
“Accident investigators are at the crash site.”
synonyms: inspector, examiner, enquirer, explorer, analyzer
The investigator was investigating in our house for any traces of finger prints since last nights brake in.
The investigator pulls up in black, shiny Mercedes. Vintage, of course. He has always had a taste for the finer things in life. He rolled down the window and peered at me from behind his darkly tinted sunglasses. “Get in,” he commanded brusquely, his voice gritty with cigar smoke.
Every so often you need an investigator. Someone to help you put together the pieces, someone to make you see the glue between the cracks. Someone who won’t sugar coat your eyes and spin lies. Someone with a soft touch and a tender heart. Someone who wants to light up your world.
I paced the room with my arms folded. My fingernails had made crescents in my skin. The knock at the door jolted me like three thousand volts, and I fumbled at the latch for so long I thought my clumsy fingers would never figure out the clasp. I pulled the door open as I tried to steady my face into the semblance of a smile.
He stood there as I thought he would, tall and middle-aged and serious and dark suited. He smiled a thin smile, tipped his head, said, “Morning Ma’am, mind if I come in?” and strode inside without pausing for my answer.
I closed the door with trembling hands and turned to join him.
A man walks into the room that was covered in blood. He asked the lead investigator what had happened and he said,” another superhero from the golden age has been killed. Third one this week alone.”
“So, what do you think?”
The man deeply sighed. “I’ll be honest with you. I think that all of this is nuts and that she’s just some sort of cult kid with a kind smile..but I know I don’t believe any of that even for a second. She’s not..human. At least, not anymore.”
Investigated the inside of my body
without beginning to look inside my mind
never questioning or searching
just went right inside
no question
or feeling
no look of believing
no trust or compassion
just none stop action
i need more
i’m sorry
you’re more than I’ll carry
Highly skilled investigator, eyes to see the core. Right and wrong, mean nothing when intentions are pure. Or so he liked to believe, the truth unfolds. The deed has been done, a son has been lost and a man has lost his right to see the sun.
When I think of the word investigator, I am reminded of Sherlock Holmes for some reason. Perhaps, it is because I cling to the happy memories of my childhood for dear life sometimes, because things seemed much less complicated and easier back then. This is completely unrelated though. Oh well.
She peered around the corner and saw her friend. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing: her friend, acting very much like someone other than her friend. To say the very least, it was disturbing.
There is an investigator searching for clues. He needs to help solve the case. How will he do this without any help.
She’d hired the private investigator to find her son’s murderer. She expected complete efficiency. She expected complete thoroughness. She did not expect to be followed into work the next morning.
You search for clues, read your correspondences over and over, reconsidering word choice and trying to determine what that particular verb or noun is actually implying. You don’t trust them. You’re convinced they have an ulterior motive, and you don’t want to be caught off-guard.
The investigator quickly identified a possible cause for the dingus magically appearing. She took out her telescope and pointed it at the fossil evidence and realized it was prehistoric, and proceeded to extract it from the phospholipid bilayer. It took her 10 years to do that. Which by that time, she was already in her 90’s.
I think of the little things that slay you. Maybe an unclasped hand, or a forgotten heart. But when I really wrap my mind around it, it’s unchecked words or something else that gets to them.
I see it all end the same way so often. But it never really lays the same in my hand, when it’s the end of the day, the locker slams, and it echoes because there is no one soft to absorb the sound.
I can take another step, another step, and find myself nowhere. I end in contradictions right where I started. I would give anything for some sort of tell-tale heart.
The investigator walk across the street, he feels tired and anxious. What happened?
I have met the investigator in the school, we were very friends. Today we live in the same street and still we talk. My wife also study with him.
there was a man who wore a hat and he took extra care to examine the things around him in the world. A tiny speck of dust was an a piece of unihanbited land that blew away and he wanted to know where it came from and where it was going to go. His attention held shortly for the next object he saw was more interesting than the last.
Looking. Seeing? Never seeing. Looking, never finding, I can’t find you. The clock ticks in my ears, I hear nothing but time passing. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Stop.
Looking. There is nothing. There is passing days. There is time ticking, ticking, ticking. There is no me. There is no you. Looking. Never finding.
The clock was ticking. The one that did this would surely be finding their way out as soon as possible. His mind whirled. What would they do? How would he find the person that he’d been on a mission to apprehend for, literally, years.
He stopped and glanced curiously at the ruined wall to his right. It had been torn to shreds. By the looks of the long gashes and punctures, the damage had been done by a jagged knife.
She wanted to know it all. Hubris made her think she had the right. To be god. Is that wrong? Or is that what we all should strive for. Private investigators of the universe. . with Hubble telescopes and magnifying glasses. There are answers to every question.
Investigator what are you looking for? Will the answers you find be the one you were looking for or a disbelief? How does one go about investigating? Can i be one too? I want to investigate and find find answers. But i’m scared for the outcome that comes before me. Am i up for it, am i smart enough. I won’t give up. I’ll prove i can do this. This is what i want to do.
An investigator was already at the scene when I arrived, her gloved finger suspended in the air as she seemed to trace out some sort of imaginary scenario emerging from the ether of her mind. As for me, I went straight to work. I started snapping pictures, first of the corner where the couch cushions were bloodied, then of the carpet, which looked more than just a little seedy. Something had definitely happened here, but there was no body to be found.
He looked up at the ceiling fan. It was a tough case, yeah, but not the toughest. There had been a time when he had been a scared kid of 28 searching for the answers in a nest of thieves as thick as mayonaise. The fan turned as if in some viscous fluid.
he sighed, “Long day?” Yes as always more the same. what about the hero? That’s of no concern no anymore, leif’s got your gear. Lets go.
He or she researches into things, trying to find out more about it. They are hired to look into things. You can hire one to find a long lost mother that disappeared, or to investigate what happened in a certain situation, such as a murder.
She walked into the man’s office, unsure of what will actually happen. The investigator was sitting in his spiny chair behind his desk; the spitting image of a classical Sherlock Holmes – hat, pipe, and all. She looked at him a bit strangely before taking a seat in the empty chair in front of her. Time to finally shake off her “admirer”.