Airship

A man wielding a machete passed the living room window. Thinking nothing of it—city living, film shoot, raccoons and skunks and coyotes, overgrown agave—I returned to my work. Then, the startling din of helicopter blades began, repeating like a stuck record. Louder and louder the sound grew as the police chopper lowered into the neighborhood.

“Drop the weapon.

“Go to the sidewalk.

“Hands on your head,” came from a megaphone-toting cop. The officer could’ve been standing beside me in the living room. Three cars, sirens blazing, raced down the road, one after the other, adding to the cacophony. As they passed, the sirens dropped low, then receded. The helicopter rose into the sky, leaving in its wake only empty tree limbs. 

I tried to search online what had happened, but there were no articles about the incident, nor any posts on the community surveillance apps. For a moment, quiet returned to the neighborhood.