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.
One thought on “spectacle from the point of view of a forgotten tuna sandwich”
What… the… fuck, Mike??! geez… macabre and yet… I somehow got it.
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