Broken Bonds
Holding.
I look at one of his hands grasping the other,
To the nervous man tightly
clenching the train ticket beside me.
The girl to his left,
That’s me.
Holding.
I grasp my luggage with my nervous hands.
Zip Zip Zip.
I open the luggage.
Holding.
The grasp of a gun in my shaking hands.
It’s now pointed at his grasping hands beside me.
Everyone’s looking.
Holding.
I’m still holding the gun.
1..2..Click
It’s not loaded.
Drop.
The gun has fallen.
The hands that once grasped each other
Have now fallen to his sides.
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