Darkness
“You alright?” asks the cop.
I try again. It’s harder and harder to breath. My chest.
“I can’t breathe. My sternum. It’s bursting out of my chest.” I lean on his car.
“Whoa there, fella, I just got it washed.”
“Please. Help me.”
The cop laughs. “Looks like you’re dying.” He stretches his arms back with a yawn, then straightens his hat. “Time for me go.”
“No.” Another gasp.
People came.
At first they came to be angry.
Then they came to be seen being angry.
Then they came because tickets became difficult to obtain.