A few hours ago I was standing on a bridge overlooking the highway. I had just come from UT campus and was staring at traffic.

In my peripheral vision I saw a police officer in an SUV pull up at a nearby stoplight and stay there for several green light cycles. I figured he was probably on his computer or something.

Eventually he flashed his lights and parked on the curb a few feet away. I looked his way and he motioned for me to come over to him.

“You OK, man?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Looked like you were about to jump.”

“Jump off the bridge? What? I was just looking at the cars.”

“I don’t know, man. Looked bad from where I was.”

“Oh, no. I used to live here is all. It’s my last night and I was walking around. I used to like to watch the traffic on the highway.”

“You going to sleep tonight?”

“Eventually.”

“You know there’s a . . . there’s a 24-hour coffee shop around the corner.”

“Yeah, Bennu. That’s where I’m going.”

“Or Kerbey Lane. You could go eat at Kerbey Lane. But you probably know all the places to go.”

“Yeah.”

“You could go there and think or something.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we get jumpers is all. Kids jump. It happens. Just had to check.”

He took my license and wrote down my name and address. He asked me if California was nice. I said “yes.” Then he took down my phone number and drove away.