A word,
Spoken —
Spoken at the wrong time,
The wrong time in the wrong place,
The wrong place with the wrong person.
The wrong person is hard to know;
Hard to know when the right person is there.
A glass thrown toward the wall.
The room drops —
Becoming as still as mercury at negative fifty degrees.
Eyes locked.
Lungs seized.
Thought no longer remembers.
But fear —
Fear starts to drip.
A percolated dread.
A heavyweight of the senses.
A gravity of a million suns forcing your body in place.
And as the glass resumes its strike,
A high screaming tear rips through the deafening anticipation,
Right before it explodes—
A siren warning you to take shelter before the bomb hits.
And then,
The deep impact.
A shrapnel bleed.
A spray of a thousand jagged teeth —
Waiting to sink into your flesh.
Run.