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Weekly Contest #372
The gunshots weren't the worst part of this neighbourhood. The worst part was knowing nobody intended to do anything about them. I'd called the police after every incident. They filled out their reports, drove slowly through the neighbourhood once or twice, and moved on. Nothing ever changed. The gangs weren't even shooting at one another anymore. They were only making noise, reminding everyone they were still there. Sleep wasn't coming tonight. I sat beside my third-storey window and watched rubbish skitter along the moonlit street. Across...
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