In one squad car, a man in handcuffs tried to hide his head between his knees. The man had long, dirty hair that hid his face, but he wanted to get as far away from the cameraman as possible.
In the other squad car, two police officers conversed. The lights on their vehicles swirled, though their sirens weren’t on, and their conversation was inaudible to anyone who wasn’t within several feet of them. The passenger side door was open, and the visiting cop had one leg out, resting casually as he discussed procedure.
Up the street, in a darkened neighborhood, an old woman stood in a lighted front door clutching the ruffled collar of a dressing gown. She wasn’t scared; she was simply a little cold.