We don’t need to be reminded about violence. If you want a “Violence Issue” you basically just need to wake up in the morning.
Still, we need to process it. And we all are, in our own ways, whether we want to or not. In our heads or in our hearts or on the page.
Here are four writers processing violence.
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Up on a cliff, I stare past my feet to the rolling, angry sea below. Far below. The frothy white caps churning against the rocks barely make a sound, and sea birds appear as small black dots, the sea is so far away. I shudder, step back—one, two, three—and turn toward the east. The sun warms my shoulders as I consider the shadow stretching before me. My shadow. I feel that familiar spider lurking beneath my ribs. Even then, it weaves frantically encasing all that I hold central to my life in despair.
I am not a traumatized person. I’m fairly stable. I’m pretty happy.
I have a problem, though. Yes, that is true.
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