Evan Cleveland's work has appeared in a few places, at least one of which no longer exists. He presses on.
After the harmless black boy was murdered, the mayor relieved all police of nighttime shifts, hiring adjunct professors from the community college. Domestic disputes paralyzed them: She should release that knife. But he threatened her autonomy. Have you worked 12-hour shifts? Have you read existential feminist theory? The dismissed officers created a flag football league, and after games they drank. One night, they broke into a library: Seuss, Sendak, Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret. They devoured lines, stanzas, chapters, discarding pages like droppings until dawn, when they shattered windows with papercut hands and discovered: indistinguishable—beauty, danger, sunlight.