Normal was the new boring, Thomas thought as he yawned. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. From his desk situated smack dab at the front of the police station, he leaned back and appraised the small, crowded room with the sullen disapproval of a veteran who has seen better days.

Everything in the room screamed “old”, from the peeling white paint to the squeaking of the overhead fans. The faded billboard hanging on the wall was almost empty, save for a few community announcements. A single movable whiteboard meant for discussing and placing information on cases was covered with scribbles of routine tasks.

He looked around at the half dozen desks or so and their owners. Most of his colleagues were at least middle-aged and they were often not at their desks - choosing to spend time chit-chatting with each other around the pantry at the back. Unfortunately, he couldn’t fault them for that.

After all, in their small town where everyone knew each other, big crime cases were almost non-existent. Save for the one in 1973 where some guy blew up a pinkie for stealing chickens.

The crimes they dealt with these days were typically disturbance of peace and quiet, and the occasional vandalism. The most severe case they had was that of shoplifting.

Never a sniff of drugs, or arson, or homicide.

That was why he had left his hometown for better prospects in the city several years back. Young and full of vitality, he had poured all his energy into his job, even if it was just directing traffic and writing tickets. Maybe, just maybe, he had been a bit too overzealous and gave the wrong person a ticket. He had not thought he was in the wrong - still didn’t - and the price to pay for his pride had been a demotion.

Back home now, he was considered the young rookie by his colleagues. The eager one who had lots to learn. But he knew he had the mettle to be a good cop. He just needed the right case to prove it. Tough luck getting that here in “dead town”.

The front door burst open just then, letting in a blast of hot air. A rotund, middle-aged woman with short-cropped hair marched in, her police cap sandwiched under her arm. She slapped her pudgy hands on Thomas’s desk.

“We have a big case,” she announced sharply. Her voice boomed in the small room and Thomas snapped up in his chair. A wide grin lit his face and his eyes danced with excitement.

“What happened? Is it a bank robbery? Street mugging?? Murder???” Questions tumbling out, Thomas could barely quell the energy bubbling within him.

The woman’s jowls quivered uncontrollably until she finally burst into laughter. When her guffaws died down a little, she shook her head and said, “I’m just teasing you, Thomas. Nothing happened.”

Thomas deflated. His lips turning down into a scowl, he complained, “That’s not cool, Marsha. You had me really pumped up for nothing.”

“I wanted to see your reaction,” she chuckled.

Unable to remain mad at her, his expression melted into a mixture of resignation and disappointment. “It’s just.. you know how much I want to work on a big case.”

“I know.” She flashed him a maternal smile and patted him on the shoulder.

Returning her smile, Thomas sank back in his chair.

“But on a more serious note...” Marsha’s expression turned somber. “It’s good there are no big cases in this town. And I hope it remains that way.”

“Yeah,” Thomas replied half-heartedly.

Marsha nodded. “Well, back to work,” she said chirpily before walking over to her own desk.

Thomas’s gaze followed her before flitting back to the glass door and the monotonous view outside. Under his breath, he muttered, “I still hope something big happens for once.”

“Just something.”