text: A red and white news helicopter rattled and hummed as it hovered over the scene. Color footage of the live feed lit up the newsroom while POLICE STANDOFF WITH ROBBERY SUSPECT scrolled across a million local TV screens all at once. On the ground a tense scene was unfolding. “Drop the weapon, NOW!” the officer shouted. Shirtless and bleeding, Louis Coleman paced back and forth. He ignored the orders of the police and began to pray out loud, “Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy...” Louis thought about his life; it once held promise. He once was a sweet boy who sat on his mother’s lap, brushed his teeth and fed the dog. He would wave the flag on July 4th and believed in the lie that anyone could be president. “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done...” But now his bare white feet stuck to the black Florida asphalt while overgrown vines of unkempt hair hung from his head. A revolver dangled like a deadly toy in his hand. Dropping out of high school left him working as a roofer in the Florida sun. The hard work had taken its toll, and over time ‘a few beers to chill out’ turned into a hit of heroin to sleep and a hit of meth to wake up. Then it took a hit of meth to stay awake and more to make it through the day. Ten years later he had no teeth and the progress of his life was measured by the entries on his rap sheet. And today his very first armed robbery had gone entirely sideways. Police cars with blinding blue flashers had him surrounded. Six cops stood with guns drawn, using their car doors to steady their weapons. Each cop overheated and impatient with their Glock Model 19 trained at his center-mass. Each one thinking *it’s him or me.* Each one ready and willing to deliver a deadly fusillade of nine-millimeter rounds if he took a shot at any one of them. Police radios crackled and the sirens in the distance got closer as more police units sped to the scene. The robbery was going to be so simple: walk in, point the gun and take the money. But the clerk pulled a gun. Louis panicked and shot the man then ran out of the store empty handed. Now he was surrounded. “...on earth as it is in heaven...” he continued. “Give it up, Louis! It’s not worth it!" the cop shouted, but Louis didn't seem to hear. "LOUIS, DROP THE GUN NOW! THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING!” “...give us this day our daily bread...” Louis said quietly. Louis didn’t drop the gun. Instead he cocked the revolver, slowly turned towards the police and raised the barrel. “And forgive us our trespass....” he muttered, but his prayer was cut short by a volley of fireworks, but not the good kind. Dozens of brass shells clattered onto the pavement. Louis crumpled to the ground. If he did have a soul it moved on swiftly to someplace else; maybe someplace better, or maybe someplace much worse.