Tuesday, March 16, 2010


Officer Mustache is tapping his pen on the edge of his notebook, already bored and thinking about breakfast, or doe season, or his truck payment. The red and blue lights flash disco ball glitter on my tears stained face. Officer Tightpants is writing down what I say, disinterested as her partner, but deceitfully engaged.

Dispatch crackles in the background confirming that I am in fact who I say, and for a moment I am taken with the urge to laugh. As though I would lie. As though I would claim this mess I call my life if I didn't have to. But instead I choke it back as a hiccoughed sob and Officer Mustache looks for a minute as though he is present.

Well, Tightpants says We have everything we need. She hands me the carboned report and the card for Domestic Disturbance at the Gallatin County Court House before they climb into the cruiser and leave me alone to watch the bushes for the eye shine that means you were serious when you said you would never leave me alone

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