Morgan Karga, Everywhere and Nowhere – Part 2

“Belligerent underpaid tactical team.” The absolute deadpan disbelief behind the words I speak, “You mean someone here came up with an acronym…for butt?”

George looks at me like I totally must be yanking his chain and doesn’t appear to believe any of this. The how and why I don’t remember, things that must seem simple to him. “Not someone, you.” He says.

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Morgan Karga, Everywhere and Nowhere – Part 1

The scenery is smudged water-color. A red, orange and gray that bounces off the tops of the towers that touch the sky almost as far as you can see. Debris continuously falls from broken windows all-around. Desks, paper, office equipment—Daily Manhattan life spilling into the streets of the dead. One hundred guns flash in the distance and the growling overcomes the screaming and the pulsing beat of mortar shots.

Bullets pass by faster than I can even think, or judge for that matter, and then a shredded piece of cloth flutters off my shoulder and the red hits me in the face.

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