My freewrite from the if/then exercise:
If humans can fly, then people are free.
If there were no religions, then gods are rapists.
If Earth became a wasteland, then time is a river.
If civil war really broke out, then we got it wrong.
If I married X, then animals have known all along.
If Mary was raped, then that story is buried.
If Medusa wasn’t a monster, but a survivor, a lover, lovable, then the burden lives in our bones.
If North America wasn’t colonized by my ancestors, then their bodies are too heavy.
If humans are not superior to all other life forms, then the stars are weeping.
Hummingbird (or The Squeeze)
Sure, a hummingbird is magnificent to look at, but when it flies into the cavity of your ear, you can’t see its iridescent feathers, it’s brilliant green, the bloom of red. You feel the frenzied beat of its winds pleading forgive me forgive me forgive me.
And a hummingbird is small enough, but when the hummingbird is the manifested grief of the man who abused you, it’s even smaller. Juvenile hummingbird sized, smaller than the quarter the same man used to pull out of your ear when he’d come to the house to visit your parents. And just like the gun in your dreams, the gun in your hand, the gun in your gut, the gun cocked on the palette of your tongue, it would be so easy to wrap your hands around it and squuuueeeze. Splat, Bang. Pow. Snuff. Enemy gone.
You could do it. You know now you could. But will you? Do you? Hell, no, you won’t let him make a murdered of you. Take more of your life than he already took down with him. No.
You carefully pull that bird out of your ear, cock that gun on your tongue, and ask him how can I forgive you when you’ve never even apologized? Never said the words, “I’m sorry.” Never thought a thought about what you did to me beyond how your dumb ass drunken actions blew up in your face. Cause you some embarrassment and inconvenience.
Boo hoo. Fly away, fucker, before I change my mind and you blow that piece of shit away.