Context Pending

Author’s Note:
Context Pending was written in response to the language surrounding recent federal operations in Minneapolis—specifically the use of bureaucratic “alignment” to overwrite lived experience. As a writer, language is my medium; when it is used to obscure, dehumanize, or revise reality, the only response I know is to push back within that same medium. This story is an assertion that perception is not provisional, and that reality does not require approval.

By the time the body hit the ice, three people were already recording for reasons that had nothing to do with truth.

One recorded because the agents had parked wrong, diagonal like an argument. One recorded because she had learned that nothing counted unless it was framed. One recorded because his phone was already in his hand and it felt safer to point it outward than let it shake.

The sound did not echo. It arrived and stayed, dense as ice itself. The body fell with the awkwardness of something misfiled and slid a short distance before stopping against a ridge of frozen slush.

Someone said, “Hey.”

Someone else said, “No, no.”

Someone laughed and then made a noise like swallowing glass.

The agents stood very still, waiting. Steam rose from their mouths and vanished before it could become evidence.

Seven minutes later, the first statement arrived.

PRELIMINARY NOTICE

No incident occurred this morning. Reports suggesting otherwise are the result of expired perceptual credentials. Citizens are encouraged to remain calm and await verification before drawing conclusions from unauthorized experience.

The notice appeared under the video. Over it. Beside it. The video showed the body sliding. The notice insisted nothing had slid.

Someone commented: I’m standing right here.

Another replied: Your license may have lapsed.

By midday, the notice had been replaced by a clarification.

CLARIFICATION REGARDING PERCEPTUAL ACCESS

Earlier language referring to “no incident” reflected current operational reality. Subsequent citizen reports indicate a discrepancy between licensed perception and unlicensed observation. What occurred was a routine calibration involving a temporary variable. No harm was administered.

Temporary variable was new.

People tested it aloud.

“He was a person,” someone said.

“That’s a characterization,” someone else replied, apologetically. “They said not to do that.”

The body was gone by then. The ice remained, shaved and refrozen into a dull oval that caught the light wrong. A city worker placed a small orange cone beside it, careful not to touch the center.

At the afternoon briefing, the spokesperson smiled with professional warmth. Her smile looked practiced enough to survive weather.

Behind her, a screen read ALIGNMENT IN PROGRESS.

She thanked the public for its patience. She thanked the agents for their restraint. She thanked citizens for continuing to participate in shared reality.

A reporter asked about the sound.

The spokesperson nodded. “We are aware that some residents reported auditory divergence,” she said. “That percussive sensation was part of a scheduled Sonic Optimization.”

Another reporter asked why it resembled a gunshot.

“Resemblance is subjective,” the spokesperson said. “Context is clarity.”

A third reporter asked whether the temporary variable had posed a threat.

“We do not assess individuals,” the spokesperson said gently. “We assess alignment.”

Someone laughed. It sounded wrong. No one joined in.

That evening, the Department released a public advisory.

ALIGNMENT ADVISORY

Repeated viewing of unlicensed footage may reinforce false pattern recognition. Citizens experiencing residual sensations (e.g., hearing the sound, remembering the fall) are advised to disengage and proceed to the nearest Alignment Marker for recalibration.

The orange cone now had a small placard attached.

ALIGNMENT MARKER — DO NOT LINGER

People lingered anyway.

Some tilted their heads, trying to see what they were supposed to see. Some closed one eye. Some filmed the absence, unsure what angle was approved.

A man knelt near the cone and whispered, “I still hear it.”

A woman told him, kindly, “You should update.”

By the third day, the language had settled.

The Incident was now a Sequence.
The Sequence was now a Correction.
The Correction was now Complete.

STATUS UPDATE

Findings confirm a successful reintegration of the temporary variable into the environment. Public distress resulted from unauthorized perception and will diminish as alignment stabilizes.

Reintegration was discussed on morning radio. Reintegration sounded humane. Reintegration sounded like recycling.

At a vigil, someone held a sign that read WE SAW IT.
Another sign read MY LICENSE WAS VALID.
A third person held a blank piece of paper at chest height, steady, waiting for the approved text to download.

Candles burned unevenly, wax running sideways in the cold, pooling where it shouldn’t. Someone tried to straighten one and gave up. The crowd stood close together without touching, breath fogging and dispersing before it could settle into anything shared.

Across the street, the orange cone remained in place, immaculate, its placard clean and legible. The wind lifted the edges of the signs and then let them fall back into compliance.

A week later, the Final Determination arrived.

It was long. It was comprehensive. It cited every previous statement and concluded they had all been correct at the time they were issued.

FINAL DETERMINATION

After holistic review, we affirm that no wrongdoing occurred, no excessive force was applied, and no individual was harmed in a static sense. The variable in question existed briefly as a convergence of factors and has since been successfully resolved.

Any memories to the contrary represent narrative drift.

We thank the public for its cooperation.

Resolved was a comforting word. It closed doors.

The video was still there. It played the same way it always had. The sound had not softened.

A man stood near the cone, phone in hand, unsure whether recording nothing constituted a violation. The ice had melted and refrozen again, smoother now, almost polished.

Above him, a banner hung from a building, newly installed overnight.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE WITH REALITY
RENEWALS AVAILABLE WEEKLY

The wind pulled the banner tight, then let it sag.

A woman stepped carefully around the cone.
A man stepped through it and did not notice.

No one looked up.