J Hahn Doleman

To Serve and Protect

church wedding
the parking lot full
of birdseed

A smear of red through the fogged windshield indicates unwanted company. We compose ourselves as quickly as possible, but there isn’t enough time to complete the task before the butt of a flashlight taps on the glass. The officer trains his beam at us, revealing our partially bare flesh. He asks us if we’ve been drinking. “No, sir,” we chime simultaneously, trying to suppress our awkward giggles. Looking even more flustered than we are, the officer suggests we consider a private venue for...um...what we are doing, and bids us goodnight. Blushing and still only half dressed, we drive home in silence.

your handcuff fantasy
under house arrest