I can’t write about it.
I can’t write about anything else.
Surely can’t polish my unfinished blog about generosity.
So I took a walk around the neighborhood.
It was snowing, gently at first.
The wind picked up; my hat and gloves, speckled and damp.
Snowflakes settled on my bare cheeks, mixing with the tears.
Another mass shooting. This time in Boulder.
Too close for comfort.
I have shopped at that King Soopers; my cousins live near.
I was at Columbine.
I was at Platte Canyon.
So dear friends call, text and email.
“Are you OK?”
The truth: I am not OK.
Memories overtake me:
Crying students, shell-shocked staff, frantic parents
Helicopters buzzing overhead
Swarms of media seeking answers
Last night, I dreamt of dodging an attacking feral cat.
I woke, rushing to see the latest news.
Sobbing as I read the names of the Boulder victims.
Ten lives lost; countless forever changed.
Not OK. Not again!