spectacle from the point of view of a forgotten tuna sandwich

she sat in her car eating lunch alone with a book to soak up the quiet of necessity

she couldn’t say what made her look up to see the plane become a ball of fire above

her tuna on wheat sat forgotten on her lap as the fuselage rained down over the city

she fumbled with her phone to call someone anyone everyone to respond to the emergency

she spoke in halting breaths as the sobs overtook her and the ball of smoke hung lazily

she tried not think of the bits and pieces of people that had been rained down furiously

it didn’t help because all she could imagine was hundreds of people spread like a puzzle.

the next day she would try and find a quiet corner in the office somewhere for lunch

her appetite for the solace of her vehicle now tainted with the spectacle of life loss.

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