It’s thanksgiving dinner.
I’m eating too dry turkey and canned cranberry sauce.
My black to a blank white wall.
My mind; elsewhere.
I’m charting terrain and planning an attack.
Deciding the best way to completely annihilate my enemy.
As I finish scraping the last of my sacred meal into my throat,
I return to the bunker.
I begin loading 20 barrel shotguns.
And collecting bullets to scrap together incase all else fails.
I reinforce holes in my defense,
I refuse to lose a single man tonight.
Someone walks in behind me.
I look to her face.
Her name is Brandi.
She’s a wife,
Her red hair falls down her shoulders,
And her brown eyes glitter with the desire for revenge.
She’s starving for it.
We load our guns,
And ready our men.
Silently thinking about the warm food in our gut.
And the blatant disregard for human life we are about to partake in.
More women fall in behind me…
I know them by voice, names and faces burned into me.
They are a part of me,
And tonight we are one.
I hear an unfamiliar voice whisper to others.
Seconds later a bullet whizzes by me.
A fury of vengeance reigns down around us.
I stand as the enemy draws closer.
And deliver a single bullet to my own brother’s throat.
He gurgles and falls to the ground
In an exuberant dramatization of every war movie he has ever seen.
I laugh and stand above him, ready to deliver another shot to his head.
He jumps back and pushes me,
Bouncing pellet after pellet off my forehead and glasses.
I grab our youngest brother,
And use him as a shield as I attempt to regain cover.
Purple and yellow darts stick to walls, and windows.
We laugh as we clamber for safety.
It’s thanksgiving dinner,
Girls vs. Boys
In the ultimate Nerf war.
In this moment we find humor,
In the frailty of human life.