Coming up, I drank some water. Sat on a bench. Watched kids watch gorillas watch people. Picnic of children and mothers in dresses pick nits from the fur of the family tree.

Knock at the door. What the hell? I hate this shit. Nobody knocks on your door when you own your house because they know they get the business end of a Glock in their face. What time is it? 11 am. Who is it? I am not to be fucked with.

Glancing out the passenger side, I see a girl in a Honda Civic, angelic and orderly, looking at me through the raindrops on her window and the raindrops on mine. I grin, embarrassed. She smirks. She's beautiful.