I dream about my old school. it's the first day of the year and I've been assigned a class without any friends. I hear them laughing in the class next door. my teacher is a stranger. I guard my eyes from hers and give her nothing more to work with. the other kids sit still in silence. looking to the front, dolls waiting for play. I want to leave but know I can't until I tune into the static. my friends laugh louder through the wall. I want to knock it over with my plastic desk or chair.
a child lies open on a table. charred like coal and bleeding. his skin is torn, organs unconcealed and pulsing through the blood. vital systems I have only seen in diagrams. the child is still and silent as the nurses hold his hands; white gloves not knowing what to do. I watch them fix the mask to keep him there a little longer. what words warrant moving forward? how do we rationalise the day? I sleep in peace afforded by the mass slaughter of children. nights pass as though I never knew. I wake to watch the livestream on my phone until I can't. wash my hands until I'm ready to keep watching til the end.
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