A Crime Scene

Hotels with vacancy signs in red. Old run down buildings. A whore on every corner. He lit a cigarette and looked around. Homeboys drove by blasting bass and rap. A sneaker dangles over a power line. Liquor store lit up with flashing signs. A bum asked for a buck.

Two blocks down a sign read, Shrimps and Catfish nuggets. The food is served through a slot at the bottom of bullet proof glass. He reads the menu on the wall. Tells the Arab he’ll take a half pound of shrimps and a Faygo Grape. The blacks stared at his white skin.

The Arab called out his order and shoved it through the square hole. Before he reached the door the old man began eating his fried food. Two teens followed him out the door. He sensed that this will be a showdown.

Hey man, one of the kids said. You gotta dollar? Help a brother out, the old man kept walking. I said you got a buck motherfucker? the pace quickens. Yo slow down bitch. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt ya, the teen with the cocked hat said. Let me use your phone, the old man turned around. Half of his right arm reached into a leather jacket.

Yo man. I’m just asking if I can use your phone. Sides, you ain’t got no gun in there. The old white man stared them down. Kept his hand inside his jacket.

You wanna find out? he asked.

Yeah bitch. I’m calling you out. Show us what you got. A pistol was pulled from his coat. The old man pointed right at them. Shots were fired. The two of them laid out on the sidewalk. Blood dripped from their mouths. The old man kept walking.

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