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I
said
,
nice
night
,
cold
but
clear
.
You
did
n't
even
say
,
hello
.
I
said
,
do
n't
run
,
or
I
'll
have
to
shoot
you
in
the
back
.
I
had
the
gun
out
,
and
I
was
wearing
a
latex
glove
so
if
the
gun
ever
became
a
people
's
exhibit
A
,
there
'd
be
nothing
on
it
except
the
dried
tears
of
Raymond
Hessel
,
Caucasian
,
aged
twenty-three
with
no
distinguishing
marks
.
Then
I
had
your
attention
.
Your
eyes
were
big
enough
that
even
in
the
streetlight
I
could
see
they
were
antifreeze
green
.
You
were
jerking
backward
and
backward
a
little
more
every
time
the
gun
touched
your
face
,
as
if
the
barrel
was
too
hot
or
too
cold
.
Until
I
said
,
do
n't
step
back
,
and
then
you
let
the
gun
touch
you
,
but
even
then
you
rolled
your
head
up
and
away
from
the
barrel
.
You
gave
me
your
wallet
like
I
asked
.
Your
name
was
Raymond
K.
Hessel
on
your
driver
's
license
.
You
live
at
1320
SE
Benning
,
apartment
A
.
That
had
to
be
a
basement
apartment
.
They
usually
give
basement
apartments
letters
instead
of
numbers
.
Raymond
K.
K.
K.
K.
K.
K.
Hessel
,
I
was
talking
to
you
.
Your
head
rolled
up
and
away
from
the
gun
,
and
you
said
,
yeah
.
You
said
,
yes
,
you
lived
in
a
basement
.
'
You
had
some
pictures
in
the
wallet
,
too
.
There
was
your
mother
.
