"Cut the shit!" the Officer barked at me and slapped me hard, so hard I could hear my own brains ringing a ding-dong like a cash machine. "Im sick of you assholes, getting caught with blood on your hands and putting the blame on some metaphysical entities. "
"You've got blood on your hands... " wasn't that a tune she used to hum?
"Where were you last night? You'd better have an alibi, dick, or you'll rot in jail. You'll only get a break when other inmates visit you for romantic purposes. Then you can practice your poetry."
He had a laugh like a machine gun.
"What do you mean? I was home last night. Thinking about my future."
"Can you prove it?" he yelled.
I could smell his breath. It smelled like fear. My fear.
"How? It's not tangible or anything."
He wrote down something.
I panicked.
"What are you writing there?"
"Oh, nothing. My wife asked me to buy some groceries and I forgot the broccolis. "
He must have seen my puzzlement.
"Life goes on, boyo. You go down. I go to the grocery store."
And he strides to the door.
"Wait a fuckin minute! Am I supposed to get imprisoned without knowing the charges?"
He turned.
"Murder. Is it good enough for you, genius?"
"Murder? Whom... What... did I kill?"
"A smile. The mood. The future. You'll get 20 to life."
I scoffed.
"What the fuck is this? The soap opera police? "
He winked and left.
I fell asleep and when I woke up all I could see was the darkness of my cell. And only then, as I was staring at the obscured ceiling I noticed the Halley Comet crossing the sky.
