Killer king

By Sumanth Naidu
Feb 01 2021 1 min read

Killer king   There was a man who call him self a king.was laying on the bed. One night in 2006, a police officer in the Sharma  responds to a fight at a old city. He rolls up and sees a man with a gun kneeling over another man in the parking lot. He tells the gunman to drop the weapon, but the gunman doesn’t respond. The officer opens fire, and the gunman is critically wounded and later dies. The gunman, it turns out, was a fellow officer: An off-duty Sharma the policeman who was intoxicated and had just been beaten up by a group of guys at the old city.   It’s the mistaken identity that gets me. You can freeze-frame the shooting as the bullet’s in the air and study it: There are worlds upon worlds of fate, mystery and human connection at play. These two officers worked at station houses nearly two miles apart, and yet here they were drawn together in a few tense, confusing seconds in a fast-food parking lot. As I wrote, “In this city, people live their whole lives separated by such short distances and never once cross paths.&rdqu

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