(crime) scene

‘How do you defeat terrorism? Don’t be terrorised.’
― Salman Rushdie, Step Across This Line

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The door opens, slowly, rattling up.

Inside, there is security, double locked doors, video cameras, a keen eyed concierge, neighbours who know everyone. And yet know no-one. Not really. Who knows. I don’t. Do you?

Inside, they are like me, maybe I can trust them, maybe not, but I know them, and they know me. I think.

The door rumbles up and over. Electrical humming. Cables taught.

Like my nerves, drawn tight.

It’s all over the news.

They. They might be out there, beyond the door, the double locks, the security. They might be there. And, they might get in.

Blue lights flash. Sirens fill the night with something less than seasonal sensation. Doors are broken down. They are there, and they, the others, the ones with the blue lights, they know it.

And, between them and me, the door. It rolls back down.

Closed.

Safe again, or not?

At home, in a place that you might just have seen on the news.


This post was written in response to the prompt for Day 10 of the WordPress Writing 101 Course in which were invited to ‘quietly observe the world around us and write about what we see.’ Sadly, where I live it has been far from quiet, albeit reasonably far away from the events that resulted in the disquiet here, although some say vice versa. Needless to say, this post is in part fiction, and (mostly) a reflection on recent events.


WordPress Writing 101 (November 2015): Day 10

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