Writing what I live and see
The patrol car drove up and parked, and the officer stepped toward me, where I stood with my homeless friends. “Who’s Pam?” My homeless friends asked me, ‘What have you done?”
I stood there, unsure what was unfolding, and answered the officer. “I’m Pam. I don’t have any warrants, do I?”
He laughed but then got serious. “A young woman was beaten by her boy...