I sit in an open window with a leg up on the sill and look out onto the street. A homeless man I have met before does a clever little soft-shoe dance past me and tips his hat. I applaud. Just then the cops jump out of the bushes and present me with photocopied Visa bills bearing signatures that indicate I owe some hefty fines. The homeless man, the little dance – it’s all been a set-up. I rage at the "entrapment".
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #123: Entrapment!
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