The Enlightened

 

We were not supposed to be afraid of them. After all, they were the articulate. Inquisitive. Supposedly enlightened.

It was the latter which scared us. The assumption. The expectation that if they have found their way here, they are automatically allies, and not foe.

And yet, they marched with those who sought to do us harm. They justified what should not be. They claimed superiority through intellectual high-ground dressed as morality.

A repetition. It was. Of the past.

And so we learned to hide. Our names. Our true identity. Our truth.

Lest we be hunted.

In the name of peace.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo credit: © David Stewart

 

Not a Zero-Sum

jose-a-thompson-VeeZz9sUaic-unsplash

(Photo: Jose A.Thompson on Unsplash)

 

Heartbreak is not a zero-sum game.

Pain is an and/and.

Destroying another is not a condition

Or proof

Or sign.

Being right or being wronged is not exclusive.

To anyone.

 

I will condemn

What should never

Be done.

 

I will not hate a People.

I will not celebrate harm.

I will not justify terrorism,

No matter the desired outcome,

Nor the hurting of children

In ‘payment’ for what someone has done.

 

I cannot see a space where rape or massacre,

Are ever, ever, a moral ground.

 

Heartbreak is not a zero-sum game.

Inflicted pain is not a battle won.

‘Collateral’ is not a term,

For anyone.

Babies aren’t worth less,

In another’s arms.

 

In The Eye

paul-zoetemeijer-AtxeOe04PQ8-unsplash

(Photo: Paul Zoetemeijer on Unsplash)

 

They were drawn in, unsuspecting,

By tales of glory finally

Being restored,

From a manufactured time of

Old.

Then kept in even when doubting

To go on,

Stuck, as it were, in

The eye of a hate filled

Maelstrom.

Spun, they were,

In webs of lies.

To leave they would

Need to give up

Pretended lives.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Maelstrom in 56 words

 

Unintended Consequences

 

“This is the stuff of nightmares.”

Nina grinned and admired her handiwork. “This is the idea.”

Daniel shuddered. This thing was creepy even in full daylight. He could only imagine how it would appear in twilight or moonlight or through a flashlight’s beam. “Did you have to make it so KKK?”

Nina’s grin slipped and quivered but returned. “Not the intent, but perhaps the effect will nonetheless be meaningful.”

Daniel scratched his afternoon whiskers. Itchy stuff, all that growing up. “How so?”

“A dilapidated, pathetically-desperate-for-a-shower bully racist figure protecting a multi-racial, pluralistic graveyard is perhaps quite apt. Don’t you think?”

 

 

Photo prompt: © Sandra Crook

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers