Setting: A quiet city street, early evening. Streetlights flicker on as pedestrians pass by. A man, Jamal, mid-30s, dressed in business casual, exits a coffee shop holding a paper cup. He’s just finished work.
(Police cruiser pulls up suddenly. Officer Reynolds, late 40s, gets out quickly, hand on his holster.)
Officer Reynolds:
You! Stop right there! Hands where I can see them!
Jamal (confused, startled):
Wait—me? What’s going on?
Officer Reynolds:
We got a call about a robbery two blocks from here. You match the description.
Jamal:
I just came from work. I’ve been in that coffee shop for the past twenty minutes. You can ask the barista.
Officer Reynolds (stepping closer, assertive):
That’s what they all say. Put the cup down, hands on your head.
Jamal (raising his voice slightly, nervous but trying to stay calm):
This has to be a mistake. I’ve done nothing wrong.
Officer Reynolds (radioing in):
Suspect detained. Black male, grey shirt, tan pants—matching description.
Jamal:
I’m not a suspect. I’m a citizen. I have ID. I can show you proof of where I’ve been.
(People nearby begin watching. A barista, Lena, steps outside the coffee shop.)
Lena:
Officer! He was here the whole time. I took his order myself—look, here’s the receipt with the time stamp.
(Officer Reynolds hesitates. Jamal remains still, hands up. The tension hangs in the air.)
Jamal (quietly, controlled):
You were ready to put cuffs on me without asking a single question.
(A long pause. Officer Reynolds lowers his radio, the weight of the moment sinking in.)
