TRAFFIC STOP: INTERNAL CONVERSATIONS OF A BLACK MAN.

AuthorHinton, Le

Do you have any weapons in the vehicle?

No.

[But you have enough for both of us. Your Glock of choice (black and menacing), pepper spray, taser, black(again)jack/ night stick/police baton. I do have a pen.] Your license, registration, and proof of insurance, please.

Of course, sir.

[I bet he doesn't know that the result of a proof is often called a theorem. I wonder what his theory of stopping me is. To insure domestic tranquility? My heart rate isn't tranquil right now. I read about a man who was stopped at the airport by a TSA agent for talking to god. My god is busy right now.] Do you know why I stopped you?

No.

[It must be for the biodiversity of Lee Morgan's trumpet playing on my speakers. The pain, the joy, the rich buttery tone that sounds like Clifford used to play, sounds like the way a good woman feels. But Lee's wife shot him, so there's that domestic tranquility thing again.] Where are you going?

Home.

[But where I'm...

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