Sunday, August 22, 2010

they drove for hours........

along the ocean......
in his red convertible......

they drove through 'dry towns'....
dry towns !!
they still instituted BLUE LAWS !!
no alcohol allowed !!
in deep Jersey.....
deep, BACKWARD JERSEY....:}}

the sun was hot....
she had worn her green sundress...
the one that matched her eyes......

he couldn't stop looking at her.....
to the point where, she was worried they'd have an accident !!

she chuckled at his drooling though
(CLEARLY she still had it !!)

they stopped to get a milkshake....
she went inside....
there was a disconcerting 'quiet' in the ice cream shop...
the kind of quiet that alerts one's senses to imminent danger.....

she saw the guy with the gun....
she didn't even have time to formulate a thought.....
she was frozen.....
paralyzed with fear......

he was holding the gun to the head of a very old man....
the poor, old man had wet himself......
there was a stench of urine....

then a shot !!!!
LOUD !!!
FINAL !!!!

the old man was on the floor !!!
blood was everywhere !!
there were intestines or ORGANS or something
 splattered on the ice cream counter.....

she heard a clock ticking.....
someone was crying.......

it smelled like SKUNK....
the gunman was running.....
a radio outside was blasting Van Morrison......

she really was craving that milkshake now......
thoughts of the red convertible smelling like
 'skunk'
were shuffling through her head......

IS IT ALL RELATIVE ?

What makes a traumatic situation real and not somehow sensationalized or exaggerated ? What constitutes real trauma ? Is it all relative ? I...