Happy Sunday! This 100-word flash surfaced from my horror at the continued mass shootings and trying to imagine how it must feel to be a survivor of one of these senseless tragedies. Let me know your take on the piece.
I stand in front of the glass every evening waiting for the pops. First, just a few at random intervals like the volley of a good tennis match. But as the sound builds, I force myself to endure the open fire, imagining bullets entering flesh.
The ding is the cash register opening. I clench, waiting for any stray pops to complete before peeking down at my torso, amazed I managed to not get hit. And when steam rises from the snack bag instead of stench, the expanded kernels pale as corpses, I’m grateful to not hear body bags zip.
© khartless 2021, All Rights Reserved
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Awesome job. Love the imagery.
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Ty, I hope we can one day live in a world where popcorn popping doesn’t make us think of mass violence.
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Well written, and yes it is a bad state of affairs when the simplest of pleasures can bring to mind the most chilling of events.👏😒
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So true. Thank you for this, Hobbo. The tennis match of terror. Wishing for my two littles a world where mass shootings are a thing of the past.
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There lies the heart of our worry, the future, our children and grandchildren. 😒
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A form of PTSD from reading or watching news coverage …
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this is a terrific piece of writing; condensed yet capacious !! quotidian and dystopian: a rare balance 🙂 one of your best , K 🙂
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Really, thank you, John. Was popping popcorn and reading the news, a combination that produced this short piece. So glad you found it powerful.
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