It’s been since about February that I’ve felt a revolver against my temple. One out of six. It freed me in some ways – it’s a lot easier to logically analyze danger and push through when you can’t be more anxious than you already are. Lying naked and exposed in a camp site at 2am feels the same as driving down the freeway. I breathe out slowly, soft mechanical clicking centimeters from my ear. No, I can’t be any more anxious. But there’s something that can make me more scared. Another bullet in the chamber. War.
Air raid sirens are on a loop in my head. I go up by ASU to get chinese from the only place open at midnight. The little packs of college kids along the street and in the restaurant are rowdy, joyful. Driving home I pass a car with all the windows down, limbs are out wiggling every which way. In my mind I ask them, “Aren’t you afraid?” One guy shrugs. “There’s nowhere to run in a nuclear holocaust. The world is just one giant ball of fire.”
50 years or 5, 5 months, or 5 days. Would you do something different if you knew? A timed essay but they won’t show you the clock. Should I be writing a quick conclusion? Should I rethink my thesis? There’s something I’m missing, I just don’t know if I’ll have time….
>>robyns_ramblings 