March 1, 2005
Incest Dream #1
in which no perpetrator=no crime
Elliott Femynye batTzedek
The bomb that fell wasn't intentionally malicious, but an accident, the result of a simple informational malfunction.
The Russians called while the missile was still over the Atlantic. They explained and apologized and offered to pay for any damage. The Pentagon understood their situation and didn't retaliate.
My house was far enough out not to get hit by the bomb or the heat blast or the fires. In the next day's thick cloud I was on the streets, grabbing people and yelling about radioactivity and poison. Each person stared blankly past me and commented about what a typically foggy fall day it was, content with the government's explanation that, because it wasn't a real war, it wasn't a real bomb, and so nothing, really, to worry about.
After negotiations, D.C. dropped a bomb on a Russian city -- all very polite and civil, of course, just to keep the numbers and types of bomb tests even. The missile that delivered it had fireworks attached that exploded into a huge Russian flag over the northeast, a symbol of our countries' friendship.
The debris from that display was so pretty, cascading through the night sky, that it, too, could never have been really dangerous.
The ash fell onto my hair and face in white, sticky gobs that burned. I screamed and screamed for help, but no one around me could see any problem, any problem at all.