still in that foggy morning stupor prior to Wordle
and coffee even though I don’t drink coffee,
wandered into bathroom and plopped on commode.
BOOM! A spontaneous explosion erupted! What
the Hell! Sounded like a gunshot! Am I hurt?

Suddenly, my glass shower door fell to the floor
like a curtain dripping diamonds. Pale blue gems
showered the floor barely missing my feet, my eyes,
my persona.Heart racing in shock, My Westie came to
check on me thinking, “Now what did she do?” (A month
ago he came running with the thud of my head hitting 
the floor) I shooed him away from the bullets.

The sound, the surprise, the shock
are what victims of gun violence must feel. Why me?
Heart racing, adrenaline pulsing trying hard to
normalize. Unlike them, I escaped unscathed but
for an instant felt the horror.