Catherine was angry today.
She was walking down one of the stacks of the local library, reaching towards a photography book on the top shelf, blink of skin between a shirt that was too short and corduroys pulled down in the stretch.
I came up behind her, put my hand on her waist and kissed her neck.
We’d known each other for weeks, I thought we were friends.
Somehow I thought it would be cute, charming, but it didn’t end up that way.
There was a knock on my apartment door at about 6 pm. I answered it and they had their guns drawn.
The voices had been bothering me and I’d just taken my Risperdal.
I just found out I had diabetes after going to my doctor.
One of the cops yelled at me and I started to cry.
Catherine will never see me again.
I ran towards the pointed gun and hoped she would never see me again.
