A young man was shot three blocks from my house on Thursday. There were news trucks and cop cars almost blocking the streets. Streets where we walk Moki every day. G and I often admire the view of the lights just a few feet from the scene. Last night a few friends were daring enough to go on a midnight walk by the murder scene. The moon was setting a fat orange slice and gave enough light to see the dark stain and vase of flowers. We continued up the hill and stopped at the three stumps to admire the lights of downtown.
For some reason I'm not so concerned by living near or in a murder scene. Death is a part of life and violent death is not uncommon. I live my life knowing I can die at any instant and I try to remember this as much as possible. I think instead of the events that lead to the shooting. What was the issue about. A young man shot point blank. Blam, the end of his life. Who pulled the trigger? What was the disagreement about? Did the man make a remark about someones girlfriend? Was it atonement for some gang faux-pas? Was it excommunication? Was it someones entrance test? All these questions, no answers. Just a blood stain, vase of flowers and my thoughts as I walk the streets and enjoy the flowers.