Your name is Susan Kuhnhausen.
You have worked another long shift at the hospital and are glad to be home. You barely notice that the house alarm has been deactivated. You are thinking about your long overdue dinner, about putting a saucepan on the stove, maybe cooking some eggs. There is mail to go through. A fashion catalogue, postcard from your sister, another letter from the lawyer.
The first noise you hear could be anything, you're not even sure it came from inside the house. The second time it is close and sinister. The next few seconds are somehow frantic and yet also frozen in time. You know you are being attacked and still a part of you refuses to believe it.
You are taken completely by surprised and the whole world jolts as a claw hammer cracks into your skull. There isn't enough time to be scared. The instinct inside takes over. Everything flows through you and out of you. You are not sure if its blood or tears on your face.
The man is on the ground. Your bodies are as close as lovers. You take your hands away from his neck. You are a nurse, you know the pallor of death when you see it. You go to your neighbours' house and there aren't enough words to explain what has happened. Somebody came to rob you and yet so much more has been stolen. They sit you down on the couch. Ice is pressed to your head.
*
The next day, the police call and say they need to talk to you again, that they have a few more questions. That there has been a development. A bag was found at your house, belonging to the dead man, with his day planner inside. They'd identified him as the janitor at an adult video shop. The same place where your ex-husband works. Well. Not your ex-husband yet. The divorce isn't final, due to his making things difficult. The police tell you the day planner has your husband's name and phone number on the week that you were attacked. And the dead man is an ex-crim with a previous record for conspiracy to commit murder. The police tell you that they will be making further investigations. That they expect to make an arrest.
*
Everybody wants to talk to you. Not just your friends and family, but those modern day vultures; the newspapers and TV shows and radio stations from all over the country and the world. But you have a conference to go to, more nursing work to do. You leave a message on your voicemail and get on with living your life:
[source]
The first noise you hear could be anything, you're not even sure it came from inside the house. The second time it is close and sinister. The next few seconds are somehow frantic and yet also frozen in time. You know you are being attacked and still a part of you refuses to believe it.
You are taken completely by surprised and the whole world jolts as a claw hammer cracks into your skull. There isn't enough time to be scared. The instinct inside takes over. Everything flows through you and out of you. You are not sure if its blood or tears on your face.
The man is on the ground. Your bodies are as close as lovers. You take your hands away from his neck. You are a nurse, you know the pallor of death when you see it. You go to your neighbours' house and there aren't enough words to explain what has happened. Somebody came to rob you and yet so much more has been stolen. They sit you down on the couch. Ice is pressed to your head.
*
The next day, the police call and say they need to talk to you again, that they have a few more questions. That there has been a development. A bag was found at your house, belonging to the dead man, with his day planner inside. They'd identified him as the janitor at an adult video shop. The same place where your ex-husband works. Well. Not your ex-husband yet. The divorce isn't final, due to his making things difficult. The police tell you the day planner has your husband's name and phone number on the week that you were attacked. And the dead man is an ex-crim with a previous record for conspiracy to commit murder. The police tell you that they will be making further investigations. That they expect to make an arrest.
*
Everybody wants to talk to you. Not just your friends and family, but those modern day vultures; the newspapers and TV shows and radio stations from all over the country and the world. But you have a conference to go to, more nursing work to do. You leave a message on your voicemail and get on with living your life:
"I'm not able to answer all the calls that I've received in the past few days. I'm being comforted by your concern and your support. I want you to know that our lives are all at risk for random acts, but more likely random acts of love will come your way than random acts of violence."
[source]
Labels: media
posted by Bel | 9:15 PM
3 Comments:
Two thumbs up, and a circle.
Why aren't the random acts of love on the news more often?
Chur bro.
Slight confusion tho- are the thumbs making the circle? crop circle? circle takes the square? am i too square??
Random acts of love just don't have catchy headlines like "Intruder killed by nurse was hit man, police say" ya know? "Wallet handed in by schoolboy skater containing all cash, claimed by grateful pensioner" just doesn't have the same ring to it i'm sorry!
You make a circle in the air with your index finger, after completing the thumbs up. It's some doubly derivative thing from a TV show that I never saw but my uncle liked when I was little.
Regarding the headlines, all we need to do is replace reporters with someone more creative. But creative and happy, or at least happy enough to see the beauty in life.
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