<strong>Paradiso Police Station</strong><br/><br/>Sunday at the Paradiso Police Station, and everything was pretty quiet.  The only officer on duty in the lobby was behind a desk, playing Solitaire on his computer while the radio nearby gave off crackling static.  Although the areas nearby were faintly buzzing with people, it seemed more dedicated to dealing with the many "ruffians" inherent to any Saturday night in the city.  Alcohol, drugs and a meaningless existence all too often led to people giving the police all sorts of grief.<br/><br/>The building stank of sweat, aged twinkies and faded dreams, so many people within forced to come to the cold, hard truth of reality.  Whether by a night of detox, learning something terrible that a friend or relative had done, or simply spending so long behind a desk that never seemed to make a difference, it all ended up the same way if time enough was spent in the public building.