No Turning Back, a piece of flash fiction.

There was tire on gravel and the cackle of gunfire. Blood on the ground in the shadow of Pomegranate trees.

Later, when the sister learns of the brother’s death, she spits revenge and a law degree is forgotten.

Your geography is what makes you who you are, her father told her, we are a people without a home and the home we have now will be taken from us.

Later, after the restaurant, she will be seen on the TV, in front of her brother’s martyrdom poster and her words are of rage and splinters.

There will be rubble and death and body parts.

Later still, a poster. We will not allow coexistence to be destroyed.

Now though, she is strapping explosives and ball bearings to her chest.

Breasts flattened against the bones of her chest. Forgotten.

She will step over the threshold, press the button and hear a click.