6:57.


my friend likes parks, so i said that she should see seward park. i took her there on saturday. it was a cloudy day, and i thought that we would just hang out on the shore. "do you want to walk a little bit?" she asked. i said, "sure." we started walking around the park. i said that there were probably trails that led up to the trees, but that i had never been up there before. "maybe one day i will," i said.

we heard a rustling in the bushes. "what is that?" i said. "i think it's a possum? but it has no tail," she said. "don't possums usually have tails?" "i think so," i said. the animal was small. we kept guessing what it could be. "is it a rat?" she said. "i don't think so," i said. "rats usually have tails." "maybe it's a hedgehog," she said. i immediately thought of sonic zooming up and down hills, grabbing those golden rings. "maybe," i said, "i'm really bad at knowing what certain animals are." "me too," she said, "but my mom is good at it."

we had only walked a couple hundred yards when she said that she was out of breath. "that's probably bad, huh?" she asked. "i guess so," i said. i told her that i was out of shape, and that i get short of breath after running just for ten minutes or so. she told me about how some of her coworkers talk about biking 60 miles, or else competing in a triathalon. "60 miles?" she said. "i'm like, what?" we laughed at the absurdity of it. i couldn't imagine biking 10 miles.

after we had walked a little more, she asked if maybe we should turn around. "at this point, it'd be faster to just finish the walk," i said. suddenly, we heard gunshots. seven of them. "that's..." i was so shocked, i couldn't think of the word. "that's comforting," she said. "i think someone just got got," i said. i remembered, though, that she had stopped watching the wire, and maybe didn't know what i was talking about. either way, i didn't elaborate. "i always note the time when i hear something like that," she said. she looked at her cell phone. "6:57," she said.

"have you ever seen some crazy shit go down in real life?" i asked. she said she hadn't. and then she remembered that she once saw a guy on the bus masturbating, or else having a seizure. she couldn't tell. "because they're so similar," i said, jokingly. "i'd never seen someone have a seizure before, so i didn't know what it looked like," she said. she said that it was a while before someone else noticed, and then had him helped off the bus. "i was like, 'should i have said something?'" i told her about the accident i witnessed on broadway. the image of the lifeless man face-down in the street still haunts me.

we heard an ambulance. "now i wonder if something really did happen," she said. "probably," i said. minutes later, we saw a cop car patrolling the park. when we got closer to where we began, we noticed nothing was different. a group of white people were standing around chatting. an asian family watched while their kids played on the swings and playground. people were still having their barbecue. no cops, no ambulance, nothing out of the ordinary.

the following day, she posted a link to an article about the shooting on twitter. apparently, a "stocky black male in his 20's" had fired some rounds at a group of people celebrating a graduation at seward park. nobody was hurt, and the suspect was never found.

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