writing = vulnerability

Gunshots around the corner. Warm breezes. Dogs barking. Always barking. Birds chirping.
Sirens. Always sirens. Baby's crying. Hispanic music and rap and somebody's using my piano...

Jesus. Selfishness everywhere. Even the Christians, hiding, very cautious, full of fear.

Young guy banging on my window at 2am. wants to talk. Should I just go through the redlight?

2am. The man under the car is folded in half. The car is upside down. I'm holding the stretcher. The jaws of life aren't working. Not big enough. They need more jacks...this is taking too long, minutes have turned into an hour, they still can't get him out, they're getting frantic now and the paramedic is crawling under the car and is sticking him with an IV in each arm. I can see a little blood and I didn't know the human body could do that and I'm still holding the stretcher...and wait, now he's coming out and the firefighters are all shouting, and he's slipping as he slides off the backboard and wait...wait....he's totally drunk...he's laughing ... he looks up at the paramedic and says 'well isn't she hot...' and I want to punch him but I strap him down and load him into the back of the ambulance and slam the door shut. after all, it's now 3am.