Silver Bullets

The rain splattered down on granite like silver bullets from the sky. Water seeped through the crevices like escaping Egyptians from the Pharaoh.

There was quiet chaos everywhere. Outside the downpour was relentless, and inside people were awoken from their peaceful slumber and hit by chilly blasts of wind and water together with the lethargic moving of limbs.

But it was pretty still right inside of me. From nothing to confusion, I gazed around at the hasty scrambling of sleeping bags and belongings as people struggled to make sense of reality and move themselves out of the fiery storm. My mind was mostly empty other than some sleep and the slow whirring of an engine coming back to life.

I followed rhythmically, shifting my physical self towards safety and back to blackness. I only watched the intensity of the frantic scramble escalate, the world passing through my eyes like a black and white movie and the film ending before it barely started.

Displacement was real. But so was belonging.


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