In literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.Crime Drama by Jack Ivey (books to improve english txt) 📖
- Author: Jack Ivey
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Crime Drama
The city streets are dark and murky, just like the coffee at Old Lil’s Diner and near as cold. A light rain cries from ashen skies, causing an annoying steady drip from the brim of his fedora. He hates nights like these but then he hates most nights, the loneliness merely an extension of his worthless life. But here he is; another crime scene, another body in a crumpled heap amongst the garbage of a desolate alleyway.
Lighting a cigarette, he gazes on the lifeless mass now sprawled at his feet; blonde, slender, just like the others. He stands there, just now noticing the moisture seeping through the holes in his shoes, saturating his socks. It is an awful feeling, but not one he is not accustomed to. His slate grey eyes dart back and forth, observing the grisly scene in more detail than usual. How careless, he thinks, as his mind gathers and catalogues the many clues that should not be as obvious as they are.
A chilled gust of wind finds the alley; he pulls his trench coat a little tighter around his body. Her purse, one of those fancy designer names which he can barely pronounce, lies intact on the pavement near the corpse. No, robbery was not the motive; that is clear. That would be evident to anyone with half a brain. Then why? Why kill? That is always the question that batters his brain, causing the headaches that rage unending. Why is murder always the solution? When he figures that one out, then maybe it will make a difference?
The whoosh of tires against the damp pavement causes him to avert his eyes to the street. He makes a mental note: gray Ford, white walls, dent in the left fender. He checks his watch, 11:59 pm, almost tomorrow, another day in this miserable city is about to arrive. Returning his gaze to the body of the young woman, fear still shows in the expression on her face.
“Wrong place, wrong time, my love,” he mumbles, then exits the alley in search of his next victim, well before the police arrive.
Text: Jack Ivey
Editing: Valerie Byron
Publication Date: 11-01-2012
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