Wednesday September 6th, 2017

The exercise:

Write about: the interrogator.

Had a nice family morning, thanks to there being no berries needing to be picked for local orders today. All I had to do was weigh up some apples and nectarines this afternoon and then wait for a few customers to show up.

Anyway, we went for a walk at Haynes Point then did a bit of shopping for the boys. Came home and had lunch together before Max (and then a bit later Miles, after we realized he wasn't planning on napping) went to Kat's parents house until dinner time.

I've got the boys tomorrow while Kat gets some work done, so I should probably rest up.

Mine:

What? No, no. What a horrible word. Please don't call me that. I much prefer interviewer. It has so many fewer... negative associations with it.

Sure, I have a talent for uncovering truths which people wish to keep hidden. But that is my job. You cannot hate me for doing it well.

You want results? I get you results.

My methods? Inconsequential. Don't be so concerned for my vic... for the people I interview. These are no innocents. They would not end up in my care if they were. They have done wrong and it is my duty to reveal those wrongs.

Maybe you should stop asking so many questions. You don't look like you have the stomach for the answers.

That's okay, though. That's what I'm here for.

Just, please, don't call me an interrogator. It's such an... unpleasant term. I am an interviewer, that's all. I ask the questions which need to be asked. I get the answers we require. That is all.

That is enough.