Today surprised me.

People were happy. Not much more than they had been previous day. But nonetheless cheerful.

They made jokes, and laughed at others’.

It was like they hadn’t heard.

That police had killed my big brother.

I mean, my uncle.

I mean, my brother’s dad.

Yeah.

My brother’s dad was shot early this morning. Or last night. Depends where you are. Were.

I hadn’t met him, but, I knew him well.

They tell me he used to sell CD’s. I know men who sell CD’s.

They stand. And sit. Most days. All day.

Sometimes they have music. Sometimes not.

Laughing. Dancing. Flirting. Smiling. Worrying. Debating. Trying. Working.

Selling CD’s.

He was doing that when they found him.

I’m not sure why they tackled him. Neither is my brother.

He’s 15.

But they did.

I watched it. On video.

They swung him around. He hit a car.

Then they took their knees. And drove them through the ground. Except, his body was in between.

His arm was victim. It couldn’t help him.

Then, one of them screamed gun.

And then, one of them drew. Their gun.

That one – the one who drew – cursed at my brother’s dad. And said something about swearing to God.

And then, that one cursed God. 5 times. Cursed him loud, and clear. It sounded like pop!pop!pop!pop!pop!

Then they said shots fired. Instead of 9-1-1. Or ambulance.

Perhaps my brother was sleeping. When it happened. When they shot his dad.

He’s only 15.

He’s got 5 brothers and sisters.

They gave my brother’s dad a shot for each one of them.

If my brother was sleeping, that means, when he closed his eyes, his dad was standing.

And when he woke up, his dad was sleeping.

Then, someone told my brother. About what had happened to his dad.

Maybe it was my brother’s mother. She’s so strong.

She must have told him.

He’s the oldest.

And then my brother watched the video.

And then, it was time to go to the world.

My brother went with his mother.

They stood in front of the world and its microphones.

My brother’s mother started to speak. About what had been done to her family.

And my brother. He was strong.

He lifted his arm. And loved his mother.

But the truth shook him.

He’s just 15.

He fought.

But water and salt burned in his eyes. And then his cheeks.

So he turned. And asked for love from those nearby. And they gave it to him.

While his mother addressed the world.

And then, she finished.

And other people addressed the world.

But their truth was diluted.

And then the world, having had enough, returned to business as usual.

They wanted hear about Hillary slamming Trump “over fallen business deals.”

And then I remembered.

That I was silly to have thought the world might mourn with us.

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