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The American
At night I toss and turn watching my mind’s replay of people jumping out of the WTC, a hundred stories up. I hold back tears at every US flag flying at half-mast, at every sign of solidarity. I struggle to talk, to smile, to hope. I’m explosive. My fury is the rumbling building; my heart pumps jet fuel. My mind burns and tears at the walls of reality, and my world crumbles. All that is left is a bent and smoldering fury and not a soul upon which to direct it.
War. Our flag waves war. Red, war. White, war. Blue, war. I see war in our faces. I hear war in our voices. It ....
Word count: 780 - Page count: 3
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