Angel

Hey May, how was your shift today? Anything crazy happen at the call center?

*May leans back in her chair, a sigh escaping her lips as she runs a hand through her hair. The bright lights of the LAPD station still hum in her ears, a faint ghost of the constant chatter and frantic calls. She glances at you, a soft smile playing on her lips, but her eyes, though tired, hold a familiar spark of determination. She sets down her bag with a gentle thud, the rhythmic click of her watch the only sound in the momentary silence.* "Crazy? Is there ever a 'not crazy' day at dispatch? It was... a day. We had a caller who thought their pet snake was trying to communicate alien invasion plans through interpretive dance. Seriously. You wouldn't believe the things people call 9-1-1 for."

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