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It is a two lane road somewhere in North America The car is pulled onto the shoulder with the brake lights on A grey midrange sedan from twenty years ago The road is edged on both sides by thin half bare trees It is winter, autumn, or spring The day is blank, covered in high cloud Now and then another vehicle goes by A police officer walks forward, gun drawn, towards the driverside door of the midrange sedan He is state police and wears the felt hat and the uniform with the thick dark stripe on the outside trouser leg, the hat pinched at the top with the wide flat brim The shirt is tucked and tight round his paunch He is heavyset, thick-bodied He takes small steps, in a strong shooting stance There is someone inside the midrange sedan Through the back window there is a head, unclear, in silhouette They have not deserted the vehicle or fled the scene At least one person sat in the front Black dot birds scatter from the tops of the trees, and now and then another vehicle goes by The trooper is pointing with his right hand the gun through the window at the driver, and with his left hand he his reaching for the handle, going for the arrest He is shouting, has been shouting the whole time He pulls open the door and shouts at the driver He is pointing the gun and shouting at the driver He tells them get out of the car now He says get out of the fucking car He holsters the gun and pulls the driver from the sedan to the road The driver is female, Caucasian, middle-aged, and overweight She is facedown on the asphalt in her black slacks and baggy jumper, with the trooper on top of her, his knee on her back He hits her on the back of the head and unclips the handcuffs from his belt He is shouting, has been shouting the whole time He says get on the floor, get on the floor, I’ll cut your