Gunshots ring across the city square.

Bread is tossed in the air.

A pickle flops from its jar onto the ground like a foundering fish.

They’re down; and covered in brains; and bleeding for their lives.

Out of the dust steps a woman wearing crosshairs and pointing, not at the dead and dying, but at herself — as the fouled object of derision and disrespect — and she’s unfathomably angry not at the shooter, but at the rest of the world.

A gasping globe mocks her continued lack of a human harmonic as she spins wailing tales into a vendetta victory of the dead.

She quits and claims leadership.

She claims she’s been blood libeled in the still-wet blood of fallen others.

Will she ever wipe the blood from her jaw?

Or will she continue to bite her lip to smear false libel across her teeth?

3 Comments

    1. David Boles – New York City – David Boles was born in Nebraska and holds an MFA from the Oscar Hammerstein II Center for Theatre Studies at Columbia University in the City of New York. He is an author, dramatist, editor, publisher, and teacher who writes across the live stage, print, radio, television, film, and the web. With more than 50 books in print, David continues to write 2MM words a year and has authored over 25K articles. He is a member of the Dramatists Guild, the Authors Guild, and PEN America, and founded The United Stage advocacy platform on the principle that playwrights have a duty to direct their own work. Read the Prairie Voice Archive at Boles.com | Buy his books at David Boles Books Writing & Publishing at BolesBooks.com | Study with Script Professor at ScriptProfessor.com | Touch American Sign Language mastery at Hardcore ASL at HardcoreASL.com | Explore the Human Meme podcast at HumanMeme.com | Train with Boles Bells at BolesBells.com.
      David W. Boles says:

      We must always be wary of her because “not noticing” what she does only gives her an escape into the middle.

      http://www.talkingpointsmemo.com/archives/2011/01/the_deal_with_palin.php?ref=fpblg

  2. Pingback: Let’s Pretend You Did Not Write that Book: Ten Sentence Story #138 | 10txt

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