by Bruce Gale
“All units! Active shooter! Repeat, active shooter.”
“Multiple casualties.”
“At the Mall. Movie Theater. Concert Hall. Club. School. Campus. Church. Temple. Mosque. Office. Street. Home.
“Thou shalt not…”
Disconnect.
Finger on the trigger.
Lock and load.
30 round magazine.
Muzzle velocity.
Rounds per minute.
Feet per second.
I-m-p-a-c-t!!
Bullet loves flesh.
Reload.
Finger on the trigger.
Terror. Panic. Cold sweat. Adrenaline rush.
“Never been so scared in my life”
“He just stood there, gunning people down like they were nothing.”
Finger on the trigger.
Thunder of weapon’s firing.
Screams!
Overload.
Stink of cordite.
Clatter of brass casings.
SCREAMS!
Breakdown.
Finger on the trigger.
Bullet chant.
“Wound. Wound. Maim. Maim. Kill. Kill. Kill.”
BLOOD.
“So-much-blood!”
Bullets are blind! Every body’s a target.
BLOOD spatters…
Flows…
Stains…
Pools…
Heart… flat line.
“She was just a kid!
“They were the nicest couple.”
“He’d just returned from Afghanistan.”
“Just graduated. Started a new job. Got engaged. Retired.”
“Our thoughts and prayers…”
“Guns don’t kill people…”
“Oh, say can you see…”
Let’s agree to take the Blue field and White stars from our flag. America’s new colors are Red, Red and Red. Land of the traumatized. Home of the blood stained.
Body count…rising.
One thing is certain. If America, in all its glorious imperfections, can deal out senseless, random death, it will. How many movie posters have you seen with the hero/villain pointing a weapon at the viewer? Why do we still believe that this won’t affect the impressionable low frequency mind?
Death toll…climbing.
Lives lost. Souls in the afterlife saying, “Oh, really… you, too?!”
Question: why? Oh, why, why, why? God help us.
At the end of the day, we process the event, count the cost, treat the wounds, bury the dead. Pray that this will not happen again.
And listen shamefaced while our enemies celebrate.
~The End~