Silent Second

First there was that time when the police showed up in their car on the basketball court with the dude coming out of it, pulling out his baton from his belt and yelling “how are you doing?” at me, alone runnin’ and shootin’. It was late morning during the first week of lockdown. I wasn’t impressed but I was annoyed. They were killing a bad ass streak of swishes. This officer was getting closer with his baton and I was walking away from him.

Then same place, same me but a big LAPD SUV pulls up. Time slows down. I don’t hear them coming so I’m surprised and I guess, scared. Time stops. My breathing too.

There’s this unbelievable second of…”is it.” There’s no cut to dramatic or peaceful music. It’s just silence and peace. That peace that you have to find within yourself to understand the possible situation. Situation that things might end prematurely. Everything. Next seconds. It’s bizarre. You know it’s wrong.

So I keep doing my little runs baseline. The squad car only slows down. Tinted windows, can’t tell anything. My heart is beating, there’s not a soul out there. I feel like I need to feel like a king, to dare. To not back away, attitude and energy wise? I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. It goes by so fast. They leave.

It wasn’t the first time I experienced that Silent Second in Front of the Cops but this was an intense one. It’s 2020, it already feels like the end of the world. Being black, shot and killed is such a regular life occurrence, sometimes I tear up just thinking about it. The fact that we have to be wary of the people in charge of protecting us in society is some monumental, twisted shit.

I have things to do.

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