We are running, uphill. There are many of them, few of us. Us being the faceless and nameless that I carry with me. We are being stalked, a masked man with a black cape.
We are all looking for her, Rhianna, and her baby. A brief case falls open to a mass of blackmail letters and two airline tickets. One ticket for the masked man the other for Rhianna.
We are in a tunnel standing beneath the twitching noses of the red shirted cannibals
The leader gives a signal. With a twitch of the nose they leave us.
An ambulance crashes, at the bottom of the hill.
We hop on my bicycle riding through the open ambulance doors. A naked family sits inside. The mother is dead. A 10 year old boy sits in his grandfathers lap. He looks at me
And with a shuddering breath he dies briefly reviving his grandfather who yells
“I am an Isreali national!” A man in a wheelchair stands and with a pointed finger and an accusatory whisper that shatters the window, “JEW!”
We point to the paramedic running around the corner, red tee-shirted with small yellow plastic fireman hats. The grandfather runs after them, naked.
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