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When life becomes a Tarantino movie
Feb. 20th, 2005 10:04 pmThis is bad.
A while back, I reported on a domestic disturbance that took place in the cozy confines of the hallway outside our apartment door at a not-suitable-for-fist-fights hour of the morning (see here). It was frightening, but hey, drunk people will be drunk people, which sometimes means taking ill-advised swings at each other, regardless of surroundings. I can understand that.
This afternoon,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rafaela and I were heading to the car, and noticed that there was a police car blocking the street just a few dozen yards from the entrance to our parking lot. Not blocking our exit, mind you, but definitely there with intent. With a crane of our necks, we could see another cruiser parked similarly at the opposite corner, next to the convenience store. They were sealing off the block; we had no idea why.
Then we ran into a few other residents of our building who knew the story: apparently, early this afternoon a woman at the convenience store had been shot with a rifle at point-blank range three times, and pronounced dead on the scene.
This is the same convenience store that I walked to two nights ago to buy milk for my children. This is the store that I can see from our side window if I stretch a little. It's at a distance that you'd measure not in miles, but in yards. And some woman was executed there.
No, not "some" woman. When we returned home, we climbed the stairs behind a young couple, two men in suits, and a uniformed police officer. The couple had a key to the apartment down the hall from us, which they opened, directing the other men towards the light switch. No one was home, and the couple did not live there. I know this, because it was the apartment I used to live in when I first moved to this town, many years ago. It was also the apartment outside of which the fist fight took place.
We quickly scanned the local online news reports, and only found a short briefing stating that the woman's husband was missing and being sought, even though he was not accused. The report also mentioned a young daughter.
I do not understand this place. I want to go. I'm done here.
A while back, I reported on a domestic disturbance that took place in the cozy confines of the hallway outside our apartment door at a not-suitable-for-fist-fights hour of the morning (see here). It was frightening, but hey, drunk people will be drunk people, which sometimes means taking ill-advised swings at each other, regardless of surroundings. I can understand that.
This afternoon,
rafaela and I were heading to the car, and noticed that there was a police car blocking the street just a few dozen yards from the entrance to our parking lot. Not blocking our exit, mind you, but definitely there with intent. With a crane of our necks, we could see another cruiser parked similarly at the opposite corner, next to the convenience store. They were sealing off the block; we had no idea why.Then we ran into a few other residents of our building who knew the story: apparently, early this afternoon a woman at the convenience store had been shot with a rifle at point-blank range three times, and pronounced dead on the scene.
This is the same convenience store that I walked to two nights ago to buy milk for my children. This is the store that I can see from our side window if I stretch a little. It's at a distance that you'd measure not in miles, but in yards. And some woman was executed there.
No, not "some" woman. When we returned home, we climbed the stairs behind a young couple, two men in suits, and a uniformed police officer. The couple had a key to the apartment down the hall from us, which they opened, directing the other men towards the light switch. No one was home, and the couple did not live there. I know this, because it was the apartment I used to live in when I first moved to this town, many years ago. It was also the apartment outside of which the fist fight took place.
We quickly scanned the local online news reports, and only found a short briefing stating that the woman's husband was missing and being sought, even though he was not accused. The report also mentioned a young daughter.
I do not understand this place. I want to go. I'm done here.
