Touch my Lips

The bullet flew past my head and buried itself in the door jamb. I did not have a gun or a bulletproof vest so I used the door as an exit. I ran as fast as a cheetah to the corner but another bullet buzzed past me as I dived for cover.
The gunman did not seem to be too much of a marksman but I did not plan to wait while he honed his skills. I could hear the sound of approaching sirens and I prayed that the gunman could hear them too.
Apparently he was too fixed on nailing me because another bullet screamed off the wall on the other side of the road. Perhaps he was trying to catch me with a ricochet?
I do not like guns although I have used them myself in the past. I have even killed a man on a previous occasion. There is something about guns aimed at me that I find very distracting.
The police car swung around the corner ahead of me and the gunman decided that nailing me could wait for a more auspicious moment. He disappeared around the corner that I had just tried to interpose between us.
The police car swerved in front of me and a officer of the law jumped out and commanded me: “Put your hands on your head and face the wall.”
I did as I was ordered and waited for the peace-keeper to approach me.
“If you look in my inside jacket pocket, officer, you will find my identity card.”
I said over my shoulder.
“Face the front, sir. We’ll come to your identity later.”
He patted me down and finding no weapon, he said in a slightly aggrieved voice.