“The Stop”
Late evening. A quiet neighborhood. Red and blue lights flash in the distance as a police cruiser slows to a stop beside a man walking alone.
COP (firmly):
“Hey, you — stop right there. Where you headed?”
The man pauses, raising his hands slightly in a peaceful gesture.
MAN (calmly):
“Just walking home, officer. I live a couple blocks up.”
COP (stepping out):
“You got ID on you?”
MAN (reaching slowly):
“Yeah… right here in my wallet.
Can I ask why I’m being stopped?”
The officer doesn’t answer immediately. Eyes scan the man’s face — cautious, unreadable.
MAN (handing over ID):
“You know… this is kinda ironic.”
COP:
“Oh yeah? How so?”
MAN (softly):
“My father’s a cop too.
Been on the force 26 years.
He used to tell me about stops like this…
He just didn’t think one day, his own son would be on the other end of it.”
A beat of silence. The officer glances at the ID again. Something shifts in his expression — tension gives way to reflection.
COP (quietly):
“What’s his name?”
MAN:
“Detective Marcus Ellison. 9th Precinct. Retired last year.”
COP (nods slowly):
“I know the name.
Good man.”
He hands the ID back, this time with a little more care.
COP:
“Stay safe out here.”
MAN:
“You too, officer.”
The moment passes. Two lives move on — changed, if only slightly, by a brief human connection.
