shattered innocence.

this evening found me sitting on my balcony desperately trying to ignore the myriad of activities that were attempting to lure me from the drudgery of studying. the mister arrived home with kisses for his darling wife and then he retreated to the inner sanctum to watch television and leave me in the swamp of scholarly essays.

suddenly i hear repeated popping noises coming from the other side of a neighboring building. my head is spinning...fireworks? ummm...gunshots? the mister immediately appeared at my side and confirmed my fears that i was indeed hearing gunshots (why was he so certain? dunno. that is to be determined another day). this claim was substantiated when we heard sirens, and then saw a black car careen down the road only to be rammed by a chasing police car. to make matters more frightening another police car came screaming the WRONG way, effectively sandwiching the suspect between their bumpers.

at this point the mister and i are gaping in dumbfounded shock at the events unfolding on the streets below, when POP POP POP POP POP the gunfire starts again! YEESH! i hightailed it into the house with the mister close on my heels. call us dweebs, but we went to peek out the window, only to hear more pops, which sent us scurrying back to the kitchen. after what seemed like an inordinately long stretch, the shooting stopped and we reemerged on the balcony, only to discover that five stories down one of the suspects was sprawled across the trunk of a police car. the yelling, shouting, and wailing, that ensued shortly after, emanated from what we presume was another suspect, this one not so "lucky," because he was apparently hit by one of the many flying bullets.

it only took a few minutes for a bevy of police cars, detectives, and ambulances, to descend on the scene. three hours later only a few police cars remain, but the mobile crime lab, detectives, the suspect's cars and the crime scene tape have not yet disappeared. i am holding out hope that when i wake up, the flashing lights, crime scene tape and suspect's cars will have been removed and all the events will linger only in my memory.

who knew that the 200 yard stretch of road visible from our balcony would provide us our own constant stream of police action. we regularly watch traffic stops, but this was a first (and hopefully last) experience with a shootout. i, for one, prefer the traffic stops.

1 comment:

  1. Yikes.

    (Next time you and the mister should hold up some colored filter lens to the window and pretend like you're in a Michael Bay film. Now that's a Saturday night!)