Dead Man

Last night my boyfriend picked me up from the subway (walking alone late in night is a little dicey in my hood). As we came up to 106th and Third, we saw a bunch of cop cars, lights flashing, and people standing in the middle of the street. Memo told me not to look, but I had to. There was a man in the intersection with a bloodstain over his heart. From the way he was lying, and from the unhurried way the cops were moving around, it was obvious that he was dead. I went home and read Dorothy L. Sayers.