First Encounters

The cops called out, entered of their own accord, and found me sitting on the edge of the living room sofa, wrists dangling over my knees, head between my legs, and a small pile of vomit on the carpet below me.

A few minutes later the place was buzzing with law enforcement. I didn’t recognize any of them. A fat detective with a red mustache escorted me from the couch to the front step, I assume they wanted to search the house without me there and he wanted to ask me questions in the privacy of...