The desert island

At first it was a pleasant dream. I was on a tropical island, palm trees blowing gently in the breeze. I was surrounded by clear crystal turquoise and aqua water. But as the waves crashed against the shore, they started to turn red and I could hear gunshots in the distance. I looked down and watery crimson blood washed over my feet. I recoiled and went back to the beach.

Soon it started to rain. But as it rained, I realized that the rain fall wasn’t really rain. Well some of it was wet. But the rest was gray confetti. And as I inspected the confetti, I realized it was shredded up newspaper - I could see cut off headlines. Headlines about the CDC. Headlines about 30,000 migrants to be sent to Gitmo. Others, too, but I now cannot remember. Headlines about Musk, I think. I extended my arms up and out and bathed in the paper headlines on a desert island.

-Ari F.
Massachusetts