I walk down the stairs into the kitchen
Each step down an increased volume added to the muffle of my mother's words
trying desperately to cover up the heavy pain of her worries
but unsuccessfully.

She finishes the call with a wistful whisper
I love you
and slowly brings the phone down into a gentle wobble
on the marble countertop
Something is not right.

Soon my mind turned to reality
The horror and screaming captured on film
Sounds of ricocheting bullets pierced through the crevices of my mind
Spilled beer mixes with seeping blood across the grassy graveyard beyond the stage
and people popping up and down between rounds
Up with the silence
Down with the noise.

My father is on a plane now
Flying straight into an airport just ten minutes away
from the Las Vegas strip
Where music brought all hearts together
and one man leaving out of a hotel window
with bullets tore all the joy apart.

He’ll be fine
Hes protected
The security’s even stricter now
But next time it could be him.

Could be him awaiting a plane in Fort Lauderdale
Could be him walking rapidly down the street of Manhattan
Suitcase in hand, responding to a text from my mother asking when he’ll be home
adjacent to the narrow bike path
That would soon be interrupted by the unexpected hum of an engine
coming far too close.