"Summer is upon us," grumbled the police detective as the scanner crackled to life and a voice began to rattle of a number of 911 calls.

"Give me a cutesy-pie balloon kid and a real bloody fight picture," shouted Sturgess to the photo department from behind his desk that was stacked with random papers, old coffee cups and cigarette butts.

The arrow whizzed by his face so close he could feel its heat on his cheek.

Phelps had no wife or family and considered his shop as such, so when it went belly-up, he was left with a gaping hole in his heart and its demise was akin to losing a busload of kin.

They traded lawsuits like baseball cards.

The sound emanated from deep within Smithy, a belch so loud it rattled the restaurant's windows, scared several waiters into dropping trays overflowing with food and caused one rotund diner to shriek and run from the building shouting that a terrorist attack had just been perpetrated.

She danced like she lived her life, with no apparent control but with great beauty.