Somebody Killed His Editor

“I’m killing time,” I replied through the glass. “And, for the record, that’s the only thing I’ve killed since I got here.” 

Edgar interjected, “I guess you folks have known each other awhile.”
“We’ve exchanged a few barbs online,” I said. No point going into what we’d exchanged off-line.
J.X. opened his mouth.
Don’t say it, I thought. Or the next murder you investigate will be your own.
He closed his mouth.

One thing I've noticed about getting older, it takes twice as much work to get half the results one formerly achieved by falling out of bed.

“But for now, keep a low profile.”
“How the hell lower can my profile go?” I objected. “I’m stored out here on the back forty. The only people with lower profiles are the ones rooming in the icehouse.”