Sunday lunch and bullets

Sunday afternoon, doing jigsaw puzzles on the computer, the big rain of lunchtime already drying up. Crack! Not lightning this time, just a gunshot, followed by a few more. A few months ago I would have been able to tell you how many shots, but I’ve forgotten already. Not even too sure which direction they came from. These sound nearer than similar eruptions earlier in the day, though. The three of us in the house silently note the disturbance, but it’s not followed by any scrambling or sirens, so we continue to read papers, chat on MSN or whatever, with only a slightly hightened sense of our surroundings … in case. But nobody moves. For here in the quiet valley, we have become too accustomed to these sounds.


One response to “Sunday lunch and bullets

  1. Hello Skye,

    When I left Trinidad some 50 years ago, sure there were some problems, but nothing like what you face now, in every facet of life, from infrastructure to cost of living to crime.

    The sounds of Sundays used to be church bells and chants, laughter and noise of family and friends enjoying a day at the beach or the river or feasting together, youngmen playing unorganized games of football and cricket, tinkering with their cars or looking forward to the afternoon movie with their dates.

    Gunfire and sirens and wailing of victims were not in the script then, not even in our wildest imagination.

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