 If he were like me, raising his hands up high would mean surrender, but he is not like me. With his hands up he looks even bigger, more threatening, more likely to destroy me. I must destroy him first, chase him down, grab his throat and not let go, pull my trigger as many times as I can. What if we had met on the street without the uniforms, the holsters and hoods that mark our bodies as different? What if we had fed our bodies together around a table? Then would I have found him to be like me? Thanks for watching!