I am a bomb but I mean you no harm.
That I still am here to tell this, is a miracle: I was deployed on May 15, 1957, but I didn’t go off because a British nuclear engineer, a young father, developed qualms after seeing pictures of native children marveling at the mushrooms in the sky, and sabotaged me. I could see why during that short drop before I hit the atoll: the island looks like god’s knuckles in a bathtub, the ocean is beautifully translucent, corals glow underwater, a dead city of bones, allowing a glimpse into a white netherworld. I met the water and fell a few feet into a chromatic cemetery.
The longer I lie here, listening to my still functioning electronic innards, the more afraid I grow of detonating after all this time. I don’t share your gods, but I pray I shall die a silent death.
Merry Christmas to you all.
oh god. that was so good. very heavy until the end where i laughed out loud at the last line. made me google image the island to look for that fist.
he he – god’s knuckles in a bathtub. ooh how i love a surprising image that works!
So deep and visual – and I have to agree with Dolores – your phsrase about God’s knuckles in a bathtub… priceless!
thanks frank, dolores, CJ!
Lots of vivid images, god’s knuckles, the dead city of bones, the chromatic cemetery. I also like that the bomb is listening to his electronic innards. I don’t know why, I just do.