Next time...

…I decide to wander outside in the middle of the night to tell the policemen what I saw, remember: long pants. And socks. Now I’m frozern.

I hate that, even when I’m paying attention, I have lousy detail retention. How many shots was it? I think seven. What did the guys getting into the car look like? ummmm…

Especially since the Inspector said the victim might not make it, I wish I had a photographic memory. Or at least a camera I could get fired up quickly.

Or a neighborhood where people didn’t get shot.