Flashbang

I saw the noise first. A flash of white light appeared on the inside of my eyelids and my brain registered that before the sound. Was that because light travels faster than sound? Something with neurons? No matter. I had other priorities.

The bang seemed to come from outside, so I looked out and saw a uniform was pointing their gun. There were at least three flavors of uniformed gun-toting “G-men” roaming our streets these days. None made me feel safe; that was not their intent.

Another shot. But no light since my eyes were open. It wasn’t clear who their targets were and I didn’t want to be collateral damage (or a target), so I got my pillow, covers, phone, and charger, confirmed the doors were locked, and made a makeshift bed in the den. That room only had a single, narrow window parallel to the ceiling, not facing the street. Less chance of glassbreak and resulting injuries.

The gunshots continued as I settled in on the couch and opened the app to report the government activity. Others would know to stay away and maybe someone could use the data to end this. Once that was done, I closed my eyes and tried to return to sleep. I’d decide in the morning if or how to go to work.

The shooting sounds were fainter in the den but lights still burst inside my eyelids, even more frequently. When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed of fireflies and peace.

Karama Neal writes and thrives in the Lower Mississippi River Watershed. Online at karamaneal.com.