RAGE

It was dark and rainy, with rolls of thunder drowning out conversation and sending the dog scurrying into the first floor bathroom--and not a good day for me either. For two, maybe three, hours, I lay on the couch, curled up into a ball of frustration and anger because my computer had betrayed me and my cell phone wouldn't charge.

Ticker-tapes of messages I couldn't quite read began making their way behind my closed eyes, and I realized my anger was about more than electronics. What I was really furious about was that I now live in a world in which it has become the norm for children to kill classmates en masse every few months, in which corruption and self-aggrandizement are lauded, in which lying is call truth, and in which I can do nothing, NOTHING, to set things straight.

NOT AGAIN!

Fiorella is sad and outraged. ANOTHER SCHOOL SHOOTING! When will the carnage end? It's like we're sacrificing our children to a volcano god. Posting her vitriol on FB and screaming her heart out in the backyard is the only way Fio can express herself right now, but she will soon think of other ways. One thing she will make sure no one ever forgets is that ten dead bodies now lie at Trump's door. Parkland was his wake-iup call, but he ignored it.