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Published Book or Work by:

Kyle Allen


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Two cops sat in their squad car downtown on Seventh Avenue. They were watching two Indian men down a side street putting something into the back of a van. One of the men had on a turban and the other was lifting a brown box and pushing it into the back of the van. The cops pulled their car down an alley and came up behind the van. The Indians didn’t notice a thing.

“Hold it there Mike,” the black cop said.

“What’s the idea,” the white one asked.

“Look over there at those two.”

“Yeah,” the white one said.

“Just hold it there.”

The Black cop leaned out of the car and lifted his gun and fired off three shots into the dark alley. The two dark men hit the ground and the shots cracked the rear van windows. One crawled under the van while the other hid behind a trash can and squinted into the darkness.

“Damn,” the black one said.

“What kind of shit is that?”

“Just drive and shut your mouth.”

They turned back out the alley and headed uptown on Eighth Avenue towards Chelsea.

“What the hell were you doing?”

“You saw them didn’t you?” the black one said.

“Yeah, so?”

“Damn Arabs.”

“How you know they was Arabs. You can’t just go shooting, you damn fool.”

“I know an Arab when I see one.”

“Damn you stupid fool. You could get us in a lot of hot water.”

“Don’t worry. They was Arabs anyway.”

“How you know?”

“I can smell an Arab a mile off.”

Contemporary , Literary , Mainstream , Multicultural , Regional , Short Story
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