Screams, pleas, and jabs to our collective heart.
The scene fades in.
A wide expanse of blurry green sharpens into focus, revealing a singular line of white rectangles, each adorned with a cross or a star, dates separated by too little time, names engraved into impermanent stone.
A solitary and motherly figure stands against the backdrop, a fading sun illuminating her weary face, one resigned to futile expressions of sorrow.
“You know what upsets me the most about this last shooting is that we’re not gonna be upset in a few weeks – and that’s not okay.”
Her head shakes with incredulity at the needless violence.
She suddenly sits on the ground, unable to feel a call to action in this moment.
The echoes of silenced voices surround her.
Tomorrow will be another day, for some of us.
*I wrote this, using the actual words of someone I know, a mother, in response to the latest large shooting.