6:55 am friday

Police van flashing red and blue and in its shadow a narrow silver car. Woman beside it, in parka, dyed blonde hair, hands behind her back -- cuffed? Symbolic? Shouting at the police officer as he goes through her trunk, lifting a piece of dark cloth with an oddly fastidious gesture.

Down the road, the police lights flashing on the reflective tape of the yellow vest worn by the security guard out front of the training college. He's standing by as the homeless guy, frowning sleepily, packs up. Impossible to tell if the guard has spoken to the guy -- they never look at each other. The guard paces up the road. The back of his vest says: PALADIN SECURITY.

{rf}

they said it was all right to tell 50 close friends

that I'm going to be in the anthology.

{rf}