Someone dumped a girl's body down the street from me where the highway ramp is last week. I drove home the other night after dropping off a friend and saw the flowers, teddy bears, and photos and wondered how anyone could not see that the body dumped there was a person and not a deer. Maybe our minds mess with us and we don't want to see what's there because that's just too painful. I wasn't there to know why the police just drove by.
Three women died last week, shot or strangled, kids are shot in the middle of the afternoon, and there's that lingering dread that one of those names in the paper will be someone I know, because that's happened more.
I've been depressed like heck all week, and my roommate tells me "No wonder." How could you not be?
I love this city, but there's not a whole lot of love going around.