Stories tagged police

Damn Sure Right

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When asked, I spit and slobbered my formal name, blood came out of my mouth but I was not hurt and didn’t know whose blood it was. They asked me if I had family nearby.


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Chicago. Recent. The nineties that we thought would bring so much more. The day was raw. Well, rawer than it should have been, anyway. And I'm not talking about chill or heat,…

Take Out

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You're stupid drunk. And not feeling so good. You know you should stop doing this. But what else is there to do, especially since your brother went in? And now Roberto's gone to pick up his lady and left you alone, empty. Couldn't even drive you home. You don't…

A Life And Death in CCTV

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Obsessed she swallows, inhales, main-lines police procedurals. When she's in the zone she thinks: Big Gulps, frenzied post-pot potato chip inhalations, all-night squiggles of mirrored coke and rolled bills, chemo through a central vein ...

Things I Should Have Done - #5

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When I walked into the local police precinct to meet with a detective about the scope of my rights, I was thinking about Rocco, the adored dog of a long-ago life.


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The main problem in trying to fix its location was that the spectacle came and went. We walked toward it twice – and both times it disappeared after we had advanced no more than ten or fifteen yards. “Told you,” Glenn said. “Now you see it; now you don’t

A Litany of Bruises

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It’s no surprise when Mark comes home drunk, nor is it unexpected when he grabs me roughly by the arm and slaps my face because I didn’t have dinner waiting for him. The difference is that this night tears spring to my darkened eyes and slide down my swol

Officer Handsome

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I managed to get ahead of him, but he got behind me and turned his lights on. I then heard "Pull over NOW!" I wasn't sure how I could hear that as my windows were rolled up. Did he have a bullhorn? Oh crap; maybe he is a real cop? Why would a thief want t


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"She came at me with a knife. I had to do it."


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Past the pavilion, past the factory, past the underside of the bridge where the surfers jimmy their sloppy fingers over the oil barrels.


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I would open an eye, waiting for it to absorb the scant light in the room, and I would see her on the far edge of the bed, the topography of her hips now a battlement to keep me at bay.


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His own laugh, which Martinez had not expected, broke his bad-cop pose. Again, the mirror. The kid’s face was still sour with sass, barely concealing heavy worry, but there was something new in it. Relief, like the lonely show when company comes.

The Fashion Police

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The closet was an overflowing cornucopia of clashing patterns, cheesy fabrics and tragic accessories. There was a dizzying array of skin tight body shirts with long pointy collars, Nehru jackets, striped bell bottoms, flairs, plaid sansabelt slacks, bolo

Two Years

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He needed to be shot, he was simply too dangerous to subdue any other way.


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When you live in a place a long time, sometimes you love it and then you hate it. But get enough years down the track and you don’t even notice it anymore. That’s because it’s not out there anymore, it’s wormed its way into you, shaped you, the grey mush