Can You Explain It?

Can you explain it? That moment in a day when your mood shifts? In the first you are calm, you are joyous, you are giddy, and in the second you are anxious, you are hurting, you are broken. What happens as the clock hands shift and creek, allowing another moment to slide into history? What is the trigger? Is it that of a gun, small and sharp, cold to the touch yet made perfectly so your finger can curl around it and decide the exact second that the bullet will be launched? It can't be, that would indicate too much control and you know that this moment is uncontrollable. Onlookers don't understand it, they can't, so don't blame them for that. But how hard is it to mask your pain the second that moment comes? In a crowded room, on a sidewalk path, out by the road, alone in your bed. So rather than being the operator of the gun, perhaps you're just the victim who found themselves staring down the barrel at the wrong time. And all you can see is that bullet coming at you, in slow motion it moves, time hangs, frozen in the air, and you search for the source, for the one who pulled the trigger, but all you see is a blurred and shadowy figure drop the gun to the floor, and before you see it hit the ground, it hits you. Time speeds up and you're wounded. And in an instant the breathe is sucked right out of your lungs and you're trying to regain your balance, and all the while you're looking around at all of the people around you who are looking at you as if you weren't just shot in the gut.

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