I was surprised by the face that met my eyes. The face was that of the man with the cane from my stolen painting. He had dark hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a black jacket with a T-shirt underneath it. His hair was, well, technically a mess. Short, wild hair. 'Can I help you with that?' He repeated his question. I must've been taking my time looking at him. I snapped back into reality. 'Yes, please.' I said. He took the drill from my hand. He examined it. 'Hmm... I'm pretty sure there's something jamming the motor.' He said. He took out a screwdriver from his jacket pocket. 'I always come prepared.' He explained. He removed the screws. He lifted the cover and looked inside the small opening. 'Here's your problem.' He said. 'One of the screws came loose and got stuck in the gears.' He explained. He reached his hand into the opening and pulled out a small screw...
Note from author: I've got writer's block. Gonna take a while to get over. Anyone interested in finishing this story can help finish it.
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