100-Word Fiction: ‘Mission Creep’

That time
When I asked for a glass
Of wine and you
Brought back two
Bottles.
Or when you went
To town to window shop
And came back with bags of
Clothes.
I call it mission creep.
Things got out of
Hand – you say –
It wasn’t my intention.
But you knew all along.
It’s the same
Everywhere
You claim.
And maybe so.
So
I make the leap
To the streets
These streets
That now
Are always mentioned.
First with a higher police
Presence.
Then with little
Kettles.
Soon unmarked officers and
Baton bruises.
And now come
Plastic bullets.
What
Next?