Gone running
fiction by Luke O’Neil
I had had my head down all day working when I heard them shooting the hell out of the place over at the gun range up the hill. Which is how I knew there must have been a bad one earlier.
They do this every single time. Preparing for a seizure that is not arriving no matter how much they believe they wish it would. Or would not? I can only imagine how these people think. Firing at a phantom that does not and has never existed.
Their quarrel is with the wrong ghost in my opinion.
God it must feel so good to feel oppressed by merely hypothetical political violence.
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