Don’t ask questions! Run
Without turning around, I run. I bolt past the paramedic, aiming for the steps of my apartment.
Several shots fire behind me, and the guttural cry of an animal echoes down the street, bouncing off the brownstones and into the night.
No human could make that sound.
It’s a wild, crazy thought and nothing has felt truer in my life.
It’s the sound of a pig being gutted alive on the slaughterhouse floor, and the sound of its suffering being drawn out slowly on a cassette tape.
My heart jumps in my throat so hard that I can barely breathe.
More gunfire.
I make it to the safety of my porch, my fingers hovering over the brass handle that will open to the foyer, stairway and reams of industrial carpet.
Laughter stops me cold. Laughter, high and dripping with mania,
