Beats piano lessons. I love worlds unknown. Repulsive, sublime.
Cars and bodies are strewn, arms outstretched, mouths agape. They’re trying to communicate. Love. Fear. Little kids, women and men. All expecting to get home.
Revulsion churns in my stomach. I tell corpse jokes.
Silence pleads. Find our loved ones.
I contact their families, looking up numbers, hands shaking.
Their smiles dissolve, efforts to understand piercing me, a fusillade. How? Why?
Same with the memories they share, happiness and youth. Writers and actors and so many alive souls.
I should stick to piano.