I waited patiently for morning rush hour, knowing it was the best time to set chaos free. To respond to those who had used guns and violence the night before.
George was waiting patiently for the light to change from red to green when I shot the windows of his car.
Frank was driving on the city’s main street, heading to the warehouse outside of time, when the loud cracking sounds happened, and his tires went flat, and he lost control of his car.
Tom was turning left across the busiest intersection in the city, when more loud cracking sounds turned up, and the radiator of his heavy duty truck blew up, and the engine stopped working, and started making all kinds of ugly sounds.
Sam stood motionless wondering if he was still alive, on his front door step, the door, and the wall behind him full of bullet holes.
There were gas fires in kitchens with natural gas. Shatter glass windows in living rooms, bedrooms, and dens. Cars with flat tires, blown out windows, ruined engines everywhere.
Mark stood frozen in his doughnut shop as the windows imploded and the display case turn into a mass of glass, icing, and doughnut bits.
It was an escalation of the violence each person had participated in the previous night. “Violence grows. A peaceful ending. I can’t see anymore.” It was time to protect those I could.
And be vengeance for those I couldn’t.
The next part of the ongoing Armor 17 story. It’s Week 306 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who turn out weekly.