Well, for the first time in quite a while, I’m actually posting this on Wednesday. Despite this being exam week, I’m actually not as busy as I have been in the past few months.

copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
A bomb exploded. Amna saw the orange death-flower blossom a mile away.
She ran water for dishes—
A helicopter thundered overhead.
rinsed a plate—
An angry line streaked from the ground.
washed the cutlery.
The helicopter exploded.
She refused to hide. This had been her home for her whole life.
Somewhere nearby, she heard the rattle of rifle fire.
They won’t change me, she thought savagely. They won’t win!
Her favorite cup, which she had been gripping unconsciously, shattered. She stared down at the blood dripping into the dishwater and realized, suddenly, that nothing would ever be the same again.




