I am so profoundly inept at using my cell phone that it registers more accidental photographs than intentional ones.
This surreal streaked blur of darkness must have been captured as I tried to answer a call on what may well have been the town’s darkest night, just three nights ago, as I looked out the white-paned window into an intense spring rain squall.
A pinpoint of blue at the upper left marks a police car’s strobing light. The streak of red is from another emergency vehicle.
Out the same window today is a different view: flags fly at half-staff; a gazebo is draped in the black-and-purple bunting that signifies an officer killed in the line of duty; black crepe adorns another home; flowers have been left at the church and along the road.
Sometimes words get in the way.